


Correlation Isn't Always Causation

by Tobiroth



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-13
Updated: 2013-07-13
Packaged: 2017-12-19 07:55:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 43,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/881343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tobiroth/pseuds/Tobiroth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cloud works as a mechanic in the big city of Midgar, and after getting in a motorcycle accident real life hits hard. Between paying off hospital bills on top of the usual ones and finding a new roommate to help pay the rent he has no patience for the rich, often unbearable people of the city, and that includes Highwind Auto's newest customer, Genesis Rhapsodos.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

The first thing Cloud noticed, still somewhere between sleeping and full consciousness, was that his mouth tasted like butt.

The sensation was so gross and so overpowering he bullied his eyes open, hazily focusing on a blurry shape that was probably a person, and told them so. This was the single most important sentence he had ever had to say, and now that it was said, his eyes closed again and he sagged boneless into whatever surface he was on, mission accomplished.

"Look who's awake!" came a delighted female voice. It was the kind of patronizing voice that accompanied congratulations when a baby managed to poop its diaper, or perhaps when a puppy managed to sit on command. It annoyed Cloud so much he opened his eyes again as well as his mouth, preparing to cuss them out—but he never quite made it.

There was a flurry of activity before him and Cloud blinked a few times, distracted, until it all started to make some sense. His hearing improved too; previously it had felt like his ears were stuffed with cotton, but now he could hear the clacking of heels a short distance away, the soft whirring of machines, the rustle of sheets as he moved…

"Cloud!"

" _Ohhh no_ ," Cloud mumbled, screwing his eyes shut as soon as big, watery brown eyes came into his field of vision. Tifa was hugging him, and he was in bed, but not  _his_ bed.

He was in the hospital.

The nurse that had witnessed his less-than-graceful awakening was fiddling with an IV in Cloud's right arm, but he paid her no mind. Tifa cupped his cheek and made him look at her.

"You look like shit, Tifa," Cloud said blankly, pupils blown wide with the effects of painkillers and traces of the anesthesia he'd been under that morning.

Tifa didn't even frown, bless her; she was more than aware of Cloud's often brutal honesty when under the influence of just about anything. Her hair, uncharacteristically greasy, was tied back in a messy ponytail and she was wearing one of her old Midgar U sweatshirts. There were bags under her eyes and she wasn't wearing any makeup. Gaia  _damn_ it, but he was in the hospital.

"What happened?" he asked her.

Tifa's eyes strayed from his and trailed down his body to his left leg. Cloud glanced down and winced.

"You got hit by a car," Tifa answered, squeezing his hand. Her fingers were warm and firm and Cloud hadn't even realized he was trembling until now. He squeezed back. Cloud eyed his leg, swaddled in ugly cream-colored bandages, and sighed.

"On Fenrir?"

"Yup."

"How is he?"

"…Not that good," Tifa answered evasively, glancing away from him.

" _No_ ," Cloud repeated with a groan, his head digging back into the cheap hospital pillow.

Four days. For  _four_ days he'd been unconscious, hooked up to various machines like a vegetable. A doctor came in and filled him in on all that happened. He'd been struck by a driver who blew through a red light—the whole thing was apparently filmed by a security camera from some bank at the intersection where he'd been hit.

Cloud had been thrown from his motorcycle and flew through the air at least twenty feet, landing on the hot pavement and skidding for another fifteen, coming to rest in the gutter.

"Good thing you wore that helmet," the doctor tried to joke, but Cloud didn't crack a smile.

He'd suffered basically a broken  _everything_ in his left leg; they'd had to perform surgery after he was airlifted to the hospital in a helicopter. Prospects seemed good, though—he might not ever be a dancer, but he'd be able to walk and run on it just fine. The rest of his body had some serious scrapes, some of which had required stitches, but all in all it could have been a lot worse. Magic users were extremely rare these days, but there'd been a witness at the scene who'd rushed out of a café and managed to hit him with a low-level Cure before he'd been packed up and shipped off by EMTs.

Cloud could just imagine dozens of self-absorbed hipsters drinking their twenty-Gil coffees looking up from their laptops in time to see him be thrown through the air. (It was all rather impressive, he liked to think, like something out of a movie. He deserved his own personal Oscar. In this town there was one of those on practically every block anyways.)

At any rate Tifa had been worried sick about him, and she didn't deserve that. She'd taken a few days off from her bar to wait almost constantly at the hospital. He didn't have any remaining family or a spouse—like a lot of people who came to this city, he supposed—but Tifa was his emergency contact on all important forms anywhere so she'd been more or less allowed to see him.

After a week, when Cloud was sick to death of the smell of antiseptic, the dude on the other side of his room who had broken  _his_ leg jumping off the balcony of his second-floor apartment while drunk, and the nurse with the terrible voice, he was discharged. They gave him a wheelchair, the promise of crutches in a few weeks if he took it easy, and a giraffe sticker because he had insisted.

He never recovered any memory of the accident, or even that day. He fuzzily remembered the dinner he'd had the night before, but after that nothing; he just woke up in the hospital. It was probably for the best, to be honest.

Tifa took him home, waved off Cloud's repeated apologies for all the trouble he'd caused her, and even managed to wheelchair-proof his house (kicking all the stuff that he wouldn't be able to squeeze by into the closet by the bathroom) before leaving.

"If you need anything," she told him, squeezing both his hands in hers and staring earnestly into his eyes, "You just need to call me."

"I know, Teef. Thanks a lot."

"I was so damn worried, Cloud." She punched his shoulder, and it was a great deal harder than it needed to be.

"…I know. I'm sorry."

They hugged for a long moment, clinging to the only other person they had in this big, scary city. He then kissed her cheek and she was gone, giving him a last worried glance before shutting the door to his apartment behind her.

There was a message from his boss, Cid, on the answering machine saying he could take off as much time as he needed to recover, and then a few choice curse words and a demand to never make him worry like that again. There was food in his fridge, easily microwaveable stuff that he didn't need to use the stove for, which he couldn't easily reach—Tifa's doing, most likely. There was even a shiny bottle of painkillers in his coat pocket which he took a few of a few hours after returning home while he sat, grumpy and irritated, on his couch.

As it turned out, Cloud didn't take very well to being confined in a wheelchair. He was an active dude, always had been—he worked two jobs and went jogging and was thinking about getting a dog one of these days; he was thinking a Husky. He wasn't the type to watch daily soaps and lie on his bed with his foot propped up on pillows day after day on his laptop, reading news articles and motorcycle reviews because he was too exhausted to even watch porn.

It was a miserable existence, and it only got worse.

A week and a half after going home from the hospital it came in the mail. He had been expecting it, honestly, but he couldn't stop the jump of fear and dread in his stomach as he opened the fat envelope from the hospital.

The bill was worse than he had even thought. He had insurance, the couple who hit him had insurance, but  _shit_ —being airlifted, all that surgery, the wheelchair—Cloud unfolded the paper, peered at the sum at the bottom, and let it flutter to the floor as he closed his eyes and dug his head into the back of his couch.

"Oh, no."


	2. Chapter 1

At first glance  _Highwind Auto_ didn't seem like the kind of place that would survive for any length of time in the great, gleaming city of Midgar.

The large sign over the entranceway pointing out into the street was faded and a bit crooked; Cid's first wife had bought it for the shop and, as she stormed out one day, through with her marriage and with divorce papers in hand, she threw a rusted exhaust pipe at the sign. The windows were grimy and a few were cracked, one even spotting a gunshot hole from when Barrett and Cid had that argument a few years back.

Inside, the concrete floor was cold and stained. The front counter that Cid usually stood behind—or Benny, or Cloud, or Kate, if Cid couldn't be bothered that day—was chipped and littered with coffee-rings and the long-dried boogers of bored people who thought no one else could see them.

The lot out back was something that belonged in a horror movie, with terrifyingly tall stacks of crumpled and destroyed cars (land in Midgar was beyond pricey, so rather than expanding out and taking up a few more hundred square feet of property, Cid had built upwards). If you weren't watching where you were going you'd probably step on something that could kill you, or at the very least send you to the lounge crammed in behind the main office with the first-aid kit in one of the cabinets by the sink.

_Highwind Auto_ looked like it belonged near freaking  _Gongaga_ , with its ragtag country-boy (and country-girl) owners and employees. It was, at any rate, very different from every other establishment in at least a ten-block radius in every direction.

Midgar was capital of the world—or at least that's what it said on the travel brochures. The buildings were tall enough that you'd get dizzy if you craned your neck back far enough to see all the way up. Cute cafes with fifty Gil specials were on every corner and every night there was something for the rich and entitled people of the city to do, from seeing operas to special 3D movies to talks about existentialism to sold-out violin performances.

The dirty, foul-smelling garage should have crashed and burned in a world of glamour and Wutaian lace and paparazzi, but it hadn't yet.

Cid Highwind was a clever man. He knew that the celebrities, businessmen and executives in this city barely even knew how to fill their million-Gil cars up with gas, let alone fix any kind of actual problem that they might have.  _Highwind Auto_ might have been significantly less impressive than the fantastic buildings in the rest of the city but it reeked of authenticity, of people who  _actually_ knew what they were doing.

It turned out that millionaires appreciated a bit of authenticity every now and again, because Cid had been flooded with customers ever since opening. Cid seemed to fit the  _mechanic_ stereotype; the customers seemed to think Cid perfectly matched whatever image they had in their head from the movies and shows they acted in and were pleased as punch with his dirty appearance and tendency to chain-smoke. Rumor had it that Cid had been typecasted into some customer's movie as a mechanic (she was a director of some sort) but he had turned it down.

At any rate,  _Highwind Auto_ was a great gig. Rich customers, fun atmosphere, satisfyingly filthy work and building—Cloud Strife, having worked for Cid for three years now, was happy to have his job.

Mostly.

"Strife! Desk!"

Cloud didn't even bother hiding his groan—he dragged it out as he flung a rag down on the handlebar of the motorcycle he'd been waxing. Cid, already halfway across the large workroom, gave him the finger and barked at him to hurry it the hell up already. There was no real malice in his words, though, so Cloud didn't pay him any mind as he trudged out of the main working area and to the front, where Cid had abandoned the desk.

There was a computer, a stool, and binders full of forms filled out by customers—not the funnest place to be, but hey, at least he wasn't on cleanup. Still, he'd had enough of the front-desk-thing to last him a lifetime.

Because Cloud's luck had always been unbelievably shitty he hadn't even managed to be hit by one of the many millionaires in this city; he'd been struck by a poor touristing couple on their honeymoon who were late to a Gaia-damned wine tasting, of all things.

Their insurance had provided him with a reasonable car to drive until he could get Fenrir all fixed up and covered most of his hospital bills, but not everything. He still had rent and electricity and internet and water bills to pay, among other things, and he fucking  _hated_ cars.

He'd only lasted two weeks at home before returning to work. The bill from the hospital had him in a panic, and because he couldn't exactly drive himself around his side self-employed job as a delivery boy was on hold. A mechanic in a wheelchair couldn't do much so Cid had cleared out behind the front counter, lowered the computer a few feet and let him take over the desk for a while.

It had been three months and two weeks since his accident, and other than a snug foam boot on his lightly-bandaged left foot that stopped him from moving his ankle, all was good. He'd had to go back to the hospital to get pins and things removed, not to mention stitches in those first few weeks after the accident.

The money situation was getting worse and worse, but through no fault of his own. Sometimes life just sucked like that, and it sucked hardcore.

A short, squat old lady entered the shop and Cloud resisted the urge to slam his head down on the countertop. He hadn't been having a good day; he hadn't, in fact, been having a good day for the past three months.

"Hi, Mrs. Johnson," he greeted with a tired smile.

"Strife," she greeted briskly. "I know you told me that it was all in my head before, but I swear I've been hearing that whistling sound again when I go around corners."

"Are you sure?" he asked, rubbing his eyes with the backs of his hands.

"Very."

"Okay," he murmured, "I'll have Benny take a look at it on Thursday. Did you drive the BMW here?"

"No, Charles did."

_Charles, right. Her chauffeur._

"Okay, well, we'll have someone take it off your hands. We'll give you a phone call when we're done."

Mrs. Johnson filled out the necessary paperwork and gave them a sizeable deposit all without the blink of an eye, finally leaving with a swish of her full-length fur coat that she wore even in summer. It made Cloud feel a little sick, to be honest.

He picked up a grimy phone by his elbow and spoke into it, hearing his own voice echo through the speakers back in the bay. " _Mrs. Johnson's here—can somebody go get her 335is? It's out front—repeat, Mrs. Johnson's here…again…"_ he snickered into the phone before letting it clatter down onto the receiver and he heard a very faint groan of disappointment from someone working in the bay.

Cloud busied himself with some of the records and exit paperwork for a while; nobody showed up for the next hour. He checked his appointments on his phone's calendar too.

Unfortunately, Cloud had realized pretty quickly that as he was he wasn't going to be able to afford living in his apartment. Tifa had an extra room in her place above her bar, but Tifa had enough to worry about without him living with her, and a dude roommate would probably hurt her game a little bit. Cloud was hoping she'd get a good boyfriend one of these days.

Nah, he couldn't move in with her, and he didn't really know who else to ask. He had some friends, but nobody that was as close to him as Tifa was. He'd had a roommate once, a man named Azul. A lot of people came to Midgar with big dreams; it was just a shame that only a few ever had them realized.

Azul had been into the whole music scene. His band, Deepground or something like that, had been doing pretty well in tiny music venues around the city, but then Azul had overdosed on some experimental Mako-laced shit at some party. That was about half a year ago now, and Cloud might have managed to continue going solo in his tiny apartment if it wasn't for his accident.

He'd been forced to advertise in the paper and print out ads to post around town about how he need a roommate. He'd had a few responses, but so far nothing promising. There was some old creep named Hojo, a girl named Shelke who spoke like a robot and who Cloud didn't entirely trust not to kill him in his sleep, and a few generic, balding middle-aged men with beer bellies. Not his cup of tea, to be honest, but he was getting desperate. He wasn't too keen on being homeless.

Tonight he was going to meet with another potential match, and he already had a headache.

The bells over the door jingled as someone walked in, and Cloud straightened up a bit from his slouch over the counter.

He barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes as a man strode up to the counter in a red leather jacket; it almost reached the top of his boots, whose heels clacked loudly against the concrete floor. He didn't look happy.

"Hi," Cloud greeted coolly as the man stopped, towering over Cloud and giving him a look like he was dog shit on his shoe. "Welcome to _Highwind Auto_. What's up?"

"My check engine light came on this morning," the man informed him. He had a smooth voice, the kind of voice that was best suited to reading poetry or whispering things into a lover's ear—it was just too unfortunate that he was setting off Cloud's  _douchebag_ alarm, something he'd obtained after having to work for some of the richest assholes on the planet.

Cloud didn't especially like rich people.

Sure, that was a gross generalization. Sure, there were wonderful nice rich people that donated to charity and who never forgot their roots and who were cool as fuck, yeah, okay. Still, he was poor as shit in this city that was full of unimaginable wealth; he couldn't help but be a little bitter from time to time.

Cloud struggled to pay for bills every month and worked two jobs, and most of the time it was wonderful but sometimes it  _sucked_. He worked for people who had cars that could've been sold to pay his rent for  _years_ and who didn't even  _drive_ them, nor really give a crap about them.

He'd come to Midgar wide-eyed and star-struck, eager and excited to be working for all the people he'd seen on TV and heard on the radio. It had been cool, for a time, until he realized he was being taken advantage of left and right and he didn't mean anything to the vast majority of people. That had sucked big time.

In a lot of ways Cloud was a bitter, disillusioned old man, despite being only twenty-five. This man in red was vaguely familiar and if this was a year or two ago he might have gushed a little or at the very least known who he was, but these days Cloud didn't really keep up with popular culture; he'd stopped caring.

"Check engine light, huh?" Cloud rotated on the stool so that he could grab a few folders for first-time customers. "That could be a lot of stuff—it's probably nothing bad, though. We'll have someone look at it by Friday at the latest."

He felt more than heard the man stiffen on the other side of the counter; when Cloud placed a few forms in front of him as well as a pen he was unsurprised to see him standing with a fist clenched, eyes narrowed in annoyance and his jaw set.

Cloud was very close to smacking him and kicking his ass out to the more expensive place on the other side of town; he didn't deserve this shit, and certainly not from a man in a red leather jacket in  _summer_.

"I have a photoshoot with  _SOLDIER_ in two days," he began, running a hand agitatedly through reddish hair that was probably sporting a thousand-Gil cut. It looked great, but that wasn't the point. "—and I hate cabs."

Cloud opened his mouth and started to speak, but the man interrupted him.  _Interrupted him!_  Cloud's lips pursed and his eyes darkened dangerously.

"My chauffeur enjoys driving  _my_ car, not anything else, so I'll need it by tomorrow evening at the latest."

And that was enough of  _that._

Cloud snatched up the appointment book from under the man's nose and shoved it into his face, jabbing with a finger at the most recent entries, mostly in Cid's chickenscratch handwriting.

"Let's see," Cloud began in the most annoyed voice he could muster, dripping in a decent helping of patronizing derision, "here's just a few of the appointments for today and tomorrow alone. Vincent Valentine, decayed fuel tank."  _Famous movie star, won Sexiest Man Alive last year._

"Lazard Deusericus, ripped left CV boot."  _Acclaimed author, currently at the top of the Midgar Times Best Seller's list._

"Aerith Gainsborough, typical state inspection."  _The nation's little sister—actress, model, had a music album in the works._

"Ingrid Johnson, strange sound when she turns."  _CEO of Bahamut Industries, richer than Sin._

"So you see," Cloud said, voice dropping into a growl, "We're busy, and we don't care  _who_ you are, you're not getting special treatment because you're a  _celebrity_. Life doesn't stop and start at your convenience, you miserable piece of shit."

He shoved the newcomer paperwork in the man's face and stood with a flourish, the dramaticness of his walk to the back of the counter to grab a soda from the cooler only hampered slightly by his unsteady walk due to his boot.

Still, he gave himself a mental pat on the back and took a swig of his cola with the taste of victory fizzling on his tongue along with the bubbles.  _Aww, yeah._

It always felt nice to knock the rich and the famous down a peg or two, and this guy? He needed it more than anyone he'd ever seen step foot into  _Highwind Auto_. His chauffeur liked to drive his fancy-ass car only—oh, boo hoo! Ninety-nine percent of people didn't even have chauffeurs, so this guy could blow his concerns out his ass for all Cloud was concerned.

He eventually turned around, unamused expression plastered onto his face. He was pleased to note that the man was scribbling hastily on the now slightly crumpled paperwork Cloud had given him.

The silence was thick and awkward as he went through each form, filling in his address and number and as much information about his car that he could remember. What the clients couldn't fill in—and this was usually a lot—a worker would after getting their hands on the manual for the vehicle after they drove it into the work bay.

After a time the papers were shoved back into Cloud's face without another word. The look the man gave Cloud was sour and chilly enough to make his bones rattle, but Cloud looked away and refused to let himself be intimidated by a dick with a lot of money and a pretty face. That just wasn't his style.

He glanced over the sheets and picked up the phone. " _Genesis Rhapsodos here with an Audi R8 Spyder. Check engine light's on. Dropoff._ "

The phone hit the receiver with a loud clack that echoed in the big, air-conditioned room. Cloud said clearly, "the deposit," and held out his hand. He met the man's eyes evenly, daring him to say something else.

He didn't, though, and after a long, heated glance procured his debit card. Cloud swiped it, printed out his receipt, had Genesis sign it, and then gave his card back.

Genesis spun on his heel and clicked his way out the front door, where he'd meet with someone who'd take the car off his hands and drive it in through the garage door up to a lift.

Cloud managed to stay composed until he could clip Genesis' papers into a thick binder of clients and could scan copies of the documents into the computer. He then sagged into his seat, splayed out on top of the counter.

You never insulted Gillionaires to their faces. Well, you didn't unless you were Cid—somehow that old coot got away with a hell of a lot. They all thought he was darling.

Cloud had called Genesis Rhapsodos a 'miserable piece of shit.' If Cid had heard he'd probably have gotten his ass fired.

Grumbling to himself, he finished with Genesis' paperwork and sighed. Regardless of how dickish the customer, snapping at them really wasn't acceptable.

No matter how shitty things were financially right now, Cloud couldn't let it get to him like that. That wasn't fair to Cid, and it wasn't fair to him either. He was better than that.

Still, the thought of interviewing yet another possible roommate that evening, mixed with the pain of dropping a heavy wrench later that afternoon on his exposed toes of his left foot threatened to bring that barely restrained anger, fueled by desperation and fear, to the surface. There was just so much to  _do_.

"Take it easy," Cid called to him as Cloud clocked out that evening, patting part of his beloved baby Fenrir on the way out.

"Yeah, Cid," Cloud said with an empty feeling in his stomach. "Will do."


	3. Chapter 2

The dude's name was Zack Fair.

Cloud hated to make assumptions about people but so far it had been pretty fun to guess what kind of person his potential roommate would be based on their name.

Thus far he'd been nearly spot-on. _Eugene Hojo_  had indeed been a perverted mad scientist type; he even wore a lab coat to their meeting, for Gaia's sake.  _Jim Randall_  was a chubby forty-something with back hair curling up past the neckline of his stained, dirty t-shirt.  _Zack Fair_ sounded like the perfect kind of name for Midgar; enough glam and interestingness to be noteworthy but not too much so that it was kind of pretentious. Genesis Rhapsodos, honestly? That was too much.

Zack Fair was probably a young guy, he'd say no older than thirty, who had big dreams of the big screen, magazines, studio albums, whatever it was, but who needed to stay somewhere cheap as they got their career underway. Unfortunately for Zack Fair, he was a talentless schmub who didn't know he was a talentless schmub and would eventually go back home to Icicle with tears in his eyes and grow up to be a small-town librarian. …Okay, maybe, maybe not, but it was fun to dream.

As it turned out, he was kind of right, and kind of wrong.

This time he'd invited his guest over around dinnertime. That was mostly because Cloud found that he was very bad at the whole getting-to-know-you conversation and things were a lot easier with plates of food to hide behind. At the very least, food was always a conversation starter.

Usually they'd knock, Cloud would size them up and determine if they were some kind of crazy Craigslist-esque killer who answered these kinds of things to murder a person and then run off, and, if he decided that no, they weren't a murderer, he'd let them inside to see the place they would hypothetically be living in.

He'd had to clean a lot before this whole ordeal started. He and Azul hadn't exactly gotten along; the guy had been on all kinds of shit that Cloud didn't know the names of, let alone understood how they worked. When Azul wasn't out with Deepground he'd be passed out in his room or puking in the bathroom.

Sometimes Cloud missed the giant brute, though, even if he was an asshole half the time. Having a douche roommate was better than having a deceased roommate, after all.

After Azul's death Cloud's stuff had crept into every corner of the apartment; his bean bag chair and gaming system had ended up in the guy's bedroom and Azul's closet was now full of Cloud's clothes that he hadn't been able to cram into his own.

Tifa had come over to help him—they'd swept, mopped, dusted and reorganized to give Cloud the appearance of a put-together, sensible roommate. Hopefully it was effective.

Tonight Cloud had made spaghetti. He was hardly a good cook, hardly even a  _decent_  one, but he could make the simple stuff. He'd like it if his roommate was some kind of culinary genius but hey, even if that wasn't the case, Wutaian takeout had gotten him this far, it wouldn't let him down just yet.

His ipod was playing music very softly from speakers in the living room—just some background sound to 'soothe the spirit,' as someone had said online. Everything was febreezed and Cloud was wearing a casual t-shirt and nicer jeans. Everything was as good as it was ever going to get, that was for sure.

It was just too bad that thus far his roommate search had been Malboro shit. If he ended up wasting his evening for another Hojo he'd rip his own hair out.

He was buzzed by the front desk as he was stirring in some seasonings to his tomato sauce. "Hey Strife," Reno's staticy voice came in from a box near the door, "Got a Zack Fair down here for ya. You good?"

"Yup," Cloud replied, squishing down a buzz of nervousness. "Let him up please, Reno."

"Have fun!" came the laughing voice of one-half of the building's security, and Cloud scowled.

He pressed the button a last time and muttered, "Yeah, yeah" before returning to the stove. Knowing Reno that was either a sign that his roommate was good looking or extremely  _not_  good looking. Cloud's love life had always been a favorite subject of Reno's, especially since they'd gone on a disastrous date years ago that they both hardly remembered but which had cemented their friendship. He hoped it was the former, though; he'd rather not live with someone who looked like Heidegger, this one hotshot customer of Cid's.

After a few minutes there was a knock at the door, and Cloud checked himself quickly to make sure he didn't have anything on his clothes before opening the door.

He wasn't quite expecting to be greeted by a gorgeous guy with a bright, goofy smile, but he could roll with it.

"Cloud?" Zack asked, sticking out a hand. His emails had been friendly, moreso than the others; Cloud had been looking forward to this.

"Yup. Nice to meet you." They shook, Cloud stepped back to let Zack in, and the man entered Cloud's apartment fully.

"Uh," Cloud began, trying to think of what to say. He'd always been a quiet guy—partly why he preferred to work with motorcycles, who certainly didn't talk back, and why he detested working at the front desk with the customers so much. He wasn't great at the meet-and-greet thing, but for his own sake he was going to give it his best effort.

"I'm cooking spaghetti, would you like some when it's done?"

He half-expected one of those automatic no thank yous—always more out of politeness and the desire to not intrude than actual truth. Zack though actually sniffed the air and his eyes lit up as he peered past Cloud into the kitchen, taking in the whole place.

"Yeah! Please, I mean, haha." His laugh was infectious and Cloud immediately felt himself sweating; he couldn't get attracted to his roommate like something out of a shitty college-aged TV drama. No, that wasn't the intention here, not what he was here for.

"We'll start with the kitchen then, I guess," Cloud said and wandered into the kitchen to peer into his pot of sauce.

Quite honestly, this wasn't the nicest apartment in the world, to put it nicely. Midgar was an expensive place to live so even a tiny two-bedroom thing like this was a lot for a person on his kind of salary and not a mega superstar. It wasn't especially attractive, but it was his, and it had functioning electricity and water and heat, which was what mattered, really.

The kitchen had all the typical stuff, an island in the center with two tall stools around it, and a new fridge that Cloud's landlord had put in when the old one crapped out on him out of the blue last year.

Cloud gave them both big plates and they ate as they walked through the apartment, spattering tomato sauce on their chins and both wiping it away hastily with napkins to keep up the illusion of good manners.

"The living room." Cloud gestured grandly at the room. He'd splurged on the couch, a squishy black leather thing that was great for naps. As a result the entertainment system was something he'd gotten at a thrift shop, but it got the job done.

"Nice collection," Zack whistled at Cloud's DVDs, mostly horror stuff with the occasional action flick.

"Thanks," Cloud answered with a wide grin.

Cloud showed Zack the bathroom, a plain affair decorated in cool blues—Azul had really, really liked blue, which made Cloud think that 'Azul' was a self-chosen name and not his birth name.

"This is your room," Cloud said as he let Zack enter it in front of him, "but, uh, obviously I'd move my crap out of it."

Zack plopped down onto Cloud's bean bag and exhaled loudly, stretching his arms and looking around with enough intensity it was like he was trying to find constellations in the pockmarks and cracks in the paint on the walls. His dark hair was messy and spiked up oddly like Cloud's own, and he had earnest blue eyes. Great body. Hands that tapped out some kind of beat on his knees, and boots that made soft noises as he jiggled his legs and the backs of the heels hit the hardwood floor.

"I like it," Zack said simply after a while. He got out of the chair and followed Cloud back out to the living room. There really wasn't much to the apartment—a large-ish main area, kitchen, bathroom, and two bedrooms.

They sat down on the couch, Cloud put the channel to chocobo races from the golden saucer and he swirled noodles around on his fork as he thought about what he was going to say. The interview portion was always a bit awkward.

"Where are you from?" he decided to ask first.

"Gongaga," Zack said with a grin. Cloud burst out laughing despite himself, and Zack pouted.

"Hey! Gongaga's awesome. What about you,  _here_?"

"Uh, no," Cloud said, feeling bad about laughing at his potential roommate so soon. "Nibelheim."

Zack gave him a flat look. "And you laughed at Gongaga? Seriously?"

They both snickered. Cloud pointed his fork at Zack as he asked his next question. "What's a country boy like you doing in the big city?"

Rubbing the back of his neck bashfully, Zack replied, "Well, acting, I guess. They say this is the place to go…"

It took everything Cloud had not to wince. Zack certainly had the look and he seemed like a great guy, but sometimes that wasn't enough. Often enough it came down to money, connections, and plain dumb luck.  _The Midgarian Dream_  was just a myth—everyone thought they could come here, make it big on their own merits, find success, and it hardly ever happened. That wasn't the individual people's faults, it was just how society and those in power worked. It sucked. What sucked more was that nice, innocent people like Zack always got suckered into the myth and came to Midgar, only to be disappointed.

For Zack's sake, Cloud resolved to be optimistic.

"You can do it," he said. Zack thanked him.

"What about you?"

Cloud shrugged. "Nothing that interesting. I'm a mechanic. I came here just to get away from Nibelheim honestly. After my mom died."

"Sorry, man," Zack said, and he looked honestly apologetic, like he'd suffered a loss too.

"S'cool." Cloud stood, just for something to do, and got a beer out of the fridge. "You want one?"

"Sure," Zack called, and Cloud tossed him one. Zack caught it easily and they settled into his couch, just chatting. Zack was two years older than him and hadn't gone to college, whereas Cloud had gone to the local community college back home for two years for mechanical engineering. He'd sucked at it, but he could do amazing things with his hands actually on a bike. Whatever, some people just learned differently—he was cool with that.

Zack had a job lined up in Midgar as an assistant librarian at a place in center city—he read to little kids. He had broken up with his girlfriend, Sonya, before leaving for Midgar (and Cloud breathed a sigh of relief, because Zack was, at the very least, attracted to girls, and unless he was bisexual or pansexual or something he had nothing to worry about. This was good).

They talked about rent and who Cloud paid and some more specifics about the apartment, and when Zack left Cloud said in the doorway, "I really like you. If you want, it's yours."

He should have shopped around a bit more, tried to find someone with a more stable job, maybe, who wasn't possibly headed for disaster. Something about Zack, though, was compelling, and he didn't want that to slip through his fingers. Cloud had never been the type to do things the easy way, either.

"It's mine, then," Zack said with a grin. He shook Cloud's hand, then pulled him in for a bro-grab. "We'll be in touch, alright?"

"Sounds good."

"Awesome."

He closed the door after Zack and grinned to himself. In this, at least, something was going right. It was long overdue, in his opinion.

* * *

Because he was Cloud Strife, and Cloud Strife never had good luck for long, his happiness over finding a new roommate didn't last for very long.

He had been in contact a lot with Zack, emailing back and forth and calling each other a few times. Zack was going to move in a lot of stuff, apparently, and had gone shopping for some more—Cloud was excited to kick some of his antiquated furniture to the curb. He hadn't had the typical college experience so this was new and exciting for him. Azul had moved in piece by piece, and he was gone so often that it didn't really ever feel like anything proper.

Friday afternoon he was mopping a patch of floor in the work bay when Cid's voice echoed around him, " _Genesis Rhapsodos here for his—what the fuck was it, some Audi eurotrash shit. Someone drive it out front, stat!_ "

He'd honestly forgotten about that particular customer, and he winced as he wrung the mop and swirled it around in the bucket, stepping carefully so his boot didn't get wet. He had already set the appointment to get it removed—he couldn't wait to wear regular shoes on both his damned feet.

Erin was the one that slowly drove by in Genesis's car; he waved at her. It was red—no surprises there—a short two-seater convertible.

Man, Cloud couldn't stand cars. All the douchey expensive cars the people in this city had made it even worse. Something classic, like a Chevy Impala—that he could handle, at least somewhat. A Honda Civic? Vomit.

He listened idly to the hum of chatter and of machinery behind him as the other employees worked on various vehicles and to Cid's booming voice drifting in from the entrance.

Zack was going to need to visit Reno for an access card and a key to the mailbox downstairs—he couldn't let him forget about that. Zack's name would have to be added to the lease, and they'd have to work out a system for the bills… they could use this opportunity to get rid of the gross wallpaper in a few of the rooms and do some nice paint, if the landlord would allow it…

"That looks fun."

Cloud frowned at the oil spill he'd been cleaning before glancing around. His eyes focused on Mr. Rhapsodos, who was standing beside him and who had evidently been watching him work while he'd been lost in his thoughts.

"Oh, uh, I guess."

Genesis seemed all smiles; he wasn't wearing his coat but instead a v-necked t-shirt and a pair of jeans with sneakers, not those prissy knee-height cowboy things he'd had on the other day. His hair was swept off his forehead and gelled into some spikes in the front, and blue-green eyes twinkled in amusement at him.

After a moment it clicked as to where Cloud knew him; Genesis played that crazy psychopath killer on  _Midgarian Horror Story_. He'd seen a few episodes, but found he liked real horror, not overly sexed-up fabulous stuff centered on Mako-enhanced winged monster people. If he wasn't mistaken, Genesis was also the face of some popular teen and young adult clothing line nearby; he'd seen a few ads on bus stops of that face.

The man was devastatingly handsome, that much was pretty obvious. Cloud flicked his gaze somewhere off to the side because it was ridiculously easy to get distracted by exposed skin or the strong, lean lines of his body, not to mention the prickles of shivery heat the man's gaze left behind on his own skin.

"Is your chauffeur glad to have your Audi back?" Cloud asked, because he couldn't  _not_.

"Very," Genesis answered. He pulled out his cell phone, some model Cloud didn't recognize, and lazily tapped away with his thumb, probably surfing the internet or something. Cloud let out a tiny puff of amusement and went back to mopping.

The messy, wet threads of yarn dragged back and forth over the oil stain, dark and thick. Cloud rhythmically worked the mop, pausing once or twice to wring the thing out over the bucket. Genesis didn't leave, though; he stood there quietly, attention fixed solely on the device in his hands.

It didn't take very long for irritation to bubble up inside Cloud and he shot Genesis annoyed glances every now and again, being ignored every time. Benny across the large room sent him a confused look upside-down on a creeper beneath a Mustang, which he shrugged at in response. Their last meeting hadn't exactly been good; Cloud had cussed him out, for Gaia's sake. Genesis had looked like he was going to stab Cloud in the face with the greasy ballpoint he'd been given to fill out his forms. What was this?

The second he put the mop in the bucket for good, the floor as clean as it was going to get, Genesis spoke.

"So, what is it that you do here, exactly?"

The bucket had wheels and Cloud leaned on the handle of the mop, pushing the bucket around from the inside with it. He took a few steps in the direction of the row of large sinks in the back of the bay and Genesis walked beside him.

"…I'm a mechanic."

 _Obviously_   was implied, but he didn't say it out loud. Genesis merely nodded and strolled alongside Cloud like he had replaced Cid as owner of  _Highwind Auto._

"So you like cars?"

"I hate cars," Cloud grunted as he hoisted the heavy bucket of filthy water into the industrial-sized sink. He squirted some soap into the bucket and grabbed the hose nozzle by the faucet.

Genesis had an eyebrow raised, and Cloud frowned at him as he began to harshly spray out the bucket, spray and mist shooting up around them. The other man took a step back, making a face, and Cloud waited until he was all done to say anything else.

"I work with motorcycles," he admitted. He pulled out the bucket, wrung out the mop a last time and kicked the whole thing over into a corner. "Resident motorcycle specialist, that's me."

"You don't look very  _biker_   to me."

Cloud shrugged and regarded Genesis warily. "Not everyone who rides a motorcycle is part of the biker subculture, you know."

"Obviously," Genesis said, sounding irritated.

Gaia forbid someone like  _Cloud_  question his intelligence! The blond took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. What the hell was this, having a conversation with a celebrity? What was Rhapsodos even doing, entertaining this chat with a random mechanic that was going nowhere?

"This is kind of dirty, isn't it?" Genesis gestured around at what Cloud could only assume was  _Highwind Auto_  in its entirety. "What are you doing working in a dump like this?"

Genesis grinned at Cloud, teeth flashing big and white. He had a dimple in his left cheek, something that probably drove the fans crazy. Cloud was hot and sweaty, streaked with grease and now wet from rinsing out the mop, but Genesis seemed impervious to the heat. His hair wasn't frizzled from humidity, and he didn't have dark pit stains in his t-shirt. He looked like he had stepped off the pages of a magazine.

He tilted his head, aware Cloud was gaping—yes, gaping—at him. "Ever consider modeling, or maybe acting?"

The blond stared at Genesis, the gears of his brain suddenly jamming and grinding together. Rhapsodos' smile didn't falter.

"No," he said icily, "I haven't."

He began marching back over to the gutted frame of a bike he'd been working on that morning, and to his dismay Genesis followed him again, like an obnoxious puppy that didn't know it was in trouble.

Stopping short, Cloud fixed Genesis with the mightiest glare he could muster. Genesis was a good few inches taller, but Cloud had a stockier, more muscular build and he did his best to loom menacingly in the other's personal space. This close, he could see a smattering of freckles under the man's eyes and bright flecks of mossy green in his irises.

"Cid is like a father to me—insult his shop again and see what happens."

Genesis just slowly blinked at him, evidently not cowed. Cloud's upper lip drew back in a snarl and he gestured at Genesis' outfit, his perfect hair, his whole package. "And I wouldn't want to ever be like  _you_ —head so far up his own ass he can't even see that maybe a person can be, I dunno,  _happy_   working in a place like this, even if we don't get million-Gil checks every month! Seriously?"

Cloud gave Genesis a look of disbelief. "Dude, whatever you're playing at…not interested."

For a long moment, Genesis didn't move.

"Your car's out front," Cloud said shortly, a clear dismissal.

He stayed rooted to the spot and didn't move again until Genesis' form slipped out the door and the sound of his sneakers on the gravel outside faded away.


	4. Chapter 3

"Take it off! Take it  _all_ off!"

If it hadn't been Cloud shouting, Tifa would have kicked him out of her bar by now. As it was he got a smack on the back of his head and a scowl.

"Ow, Tifa," Cloud muttered, giving her a reproachful look.

Beside them, another few patrons had caught on to Cloud's idea and were yelling at Tifa, the bartender for the night, to strip for them.

When one of them reached out and tugged on Tifa's sleeve and got a prompt punch to the side of the head for his efforts, Cloud admitted his mistake. "Okay…joke went too far there."

Tifa merely rolled her eyes at him and gestured for the bouncer to get rid of the handsy guy. His friends had calmed down and were edging away to a booth on the other side of the bar—probably a good idea, with the kind of mood Tifa was in.

Cloud nursed his fourth or fifth mixed drink—coke and vodka, because he hadn't the patience for beer today—and watched with amusement as Tifa bustled around, serving drinks and chatting with different people. She seemed to know everyone, flitting back and forth and making no one feel unwelcome or neglected (unless they deserved it, of course). She even managed to come back at some point and run her hands through Cloud's hair for a minute, scratching at his scalp with her nails. Cloud, head pillowed on his arms on the counter, probably looked drunk half out of his mind, but he was really not far past tipsy and was more exhausted than anything.

Still, nights like this were usually the best—relaxing in  _Seventh Heaven_ with good company, free alcohol (in Cloud's case, anyway) and the sound of the occasional Nibelheian song filtering through the speakers up near the ceiling.

Hands on his hips brought Cloud out of his thoughts and he lifted his head, not sure when he'd started to doze off. Everything was still in full swing, though; it must not have been for more than a few minutes. A bachelorette party in the corner was screeching as Tifa let one of the girls, looked like the bride-to-be, take a shot from a glass squeezed in between her boobs busting out through the v-neck of her t-shirt.

 _Women,_ honestly.

"What's your name?" came a voice in his ear.

Cloud tilted his head back, finding that it came into contact with the chest of a man standing behind his stool. He twisted around a bit and looked up.

Young, sandy blond, big pouty lips and brown eyes. "Cloud," he said simply, making no move to push the kid's hands away, but he didn't do much of anything else, either.

"Awesome name. I'm Ethan." Hands, emboldened by Cloud's lack of negative response, slid forward from his hips to his belly. They stroked upward, pressing lightly against the muscles of his stomach under his t-shirt, up past his pecs to his shoulders, then around again and smoothed down his back.

The bass of the music was thrumming low in his gut; he could feel the vibrations through the counter he still had his forearms on. It, paired with the dim, colorful lighting, the hum of chatter and all the alcohol from the past two hours sitting warm in his belly was making Cloud feel fuzzy, but not the kind of fuzzy where he'd be down with this kind of thing—not yet, anyway.

"I don't fuck underage college boys," Cloud said flatly, closing his eyes and feeling a little woozy; he swayed and leant back into the kid behind him for support. His lack of verbal filter when intoxicated hadn't let him down yet, so he didn't worry about it.

"…I'm not underage," was the response, and Cloud snorted, taking another gulp of his drink.

"You're not 21 though, that's for sure." Cloud reached backwards and groped the boy's ass until he could pull out his wallet. He flipped through it, clumsily knocking away hands that tried to snatch it back, and pulled out an ID.

He peered at it and at the prerequisite shitty accompanying photo. "Fake," he announced, closing his eyes again and holding up the wallet in one hand and the card in the other. Wordlessly, the kid collected both. Cloud hadn't actually known if it was fake or not, but judging by the kid's sudden quietness it totally, totally was.

"Like I said," Cloud said, tilting his head back and resting it once again over the other's heart and peering up at the underside of his chin, "I don't fuck underage college boys. Sorry."

"Dude," the guy said, sounding worried, "You're not gonna—"

"Nah. I'm best friends with the owner anyway, I'd vouch for you if you got kicked out."

"…Alright. Well, cool, I'll just—"

"Hey," Cloud mumbled, peering up. There were a few nicks from shaving on the kid's jaw— _seriously_ , not his kind of gig. Cloud usually preferred older men. Regardless, he reached up, threaded his fingers through short hair and tugged Ethan half a foot down for an upside-down kiss, Spiderman style. It was a bit clumsy and his technique probably wasn't great half due to his not-caring and the other half due to all the vodka he'd downed, but he managed to get his tongue in the other's mouth and when Cloud gently pushed him away a minute later the kid was breathless.

"Shoo," Cloud then said, giving a hazy wave and focusing his eyes on Tifa, who was waggling her eyebrows at him from a few feet away, chin propped up with her hand, elbow on the counter.

"I thought I told you no hooking up with people in my bar, Cloud Strife."

"I wasn't hooking up with him," Cloud protested, a small laugh escaping despite himself.

"Doesn't seem to be what he's telling his friends," Tifa remarked wryly, looking through her lashes at the small table of girls and boys in the back, one of whom was subtly pointing to Cloud and looking rather proud of himself.

Cloud did something resembling a victory dance on his stool, nearly wobbling off. "I still got it."

"Yeah, yeah…" She set a glass of water in front of him, downing the rest of his drink herself, and ignored his petulant look. "You're staying to help me clean up, aren't you? I don't want to clean up your puke on top of everything else."

"Hm," he grunted, but obediently began to drink his water.

"Oh!" Cloud exclaimed rather belatedly about half an hour later. It was late, a Wednesday night, and the bar had started to filter out. He had been deep in conversation with one Albert Troy, who co-ran the homeless shelter a few blocks up that Cloud volunteered at sometimes. Al had Wednesdays off and would usually entertain and awe him and Tifa with stories of the amazing people he'd encountered that week.

"Eh?" Tifa lifted up Cloud's arms and wiped underneath them with a rag, pushing them back down with a finger when she was done.

"Speaking of hooking up and all a weird thing happened to me on Friday."

"What?"

"Do you know Genesis Rhapsodos?"

" _Uh_." Tifa looked at him like he'd lost his head, and disappeared to settle someone's tab. She returned and nodded. "Of course I do. Don't tell me, he showed up to get his car fixed?"

Cloud laughed. "Yeah. Here's the thing, though—and I don't mean to sound full of it or whatever—but, ah, he, well." He paused and waved goodbye to Mr. Troy and his buddies as they filed out.

"He came in earlier that week for the first time, but was a total douche. I called him a piece of shit to his face.  _I know, Tifa_. Yeah. Seriously. Anyway… it went really badly. He was so full of himself. Then on Friday he came to pick up his car and he was following me around—it was creepy, honestly, and he wasn't saying anything for a while, just watched me clean. Then he said-" Cloud waved his arms around for emphasis, getting mad about it again, " _What are you doing working in a dump like this?_ Then he stared at me and asked if I've ever tried modeling. Or acting. I think…he was flirting with me, honestly. In a fucked-up way."

Tifa had been wiping the same spot on the counter for the past minute and a half. "Oh my god," she said softly. "Genesis Rhapsodos was _totally_  flirting with you."

"So I'm not crazy," Cloud huffed in relief. "Good."

" _Good_?" Tifa grabbed his shoulders, leaning across the counter, and shook him. Her boobs nearly hit him in the face twice with the force of it. "Cloud, honey, darling— _Genesis Rhapsodos_."

"He's a  _dick_."

"He has a great ass."

"True, but—"

"See! You like him!"

Cloud sputtered. "No, I hate him! He comes in all, 'I own this fuckin' place' and tries to order me around and then insults Cid and the shop and tries to just get me to leave my job and, what, work for him? I don't think so. His head is so far up his own ass he's…"

There wasn't a witty way to end that sentence, or, at least, not a way he could think of in his current state, so he settled lamely for, "seeing his own intestines." Then he shrugged off Tifa's hold and moved away from the bar to stack the chairs on top of the tables in the back.

"But he's so  _pretty_ , Cloud," Tifa whined an hour later as Cloud clambered out of her car in front of his apartment building. He'd walked the few blocks earlier that evening, but Tifa wasn't entirely sure that he'd make it home as it was and had insisted, plus it was nearly four in the morning. Luckily for Cloud, he didn't go in until noon the next day.

"Need I remind you—dick."

"Well I certainly know what's on  _your_  mind," Tifa smirked at him, and he swatted harmlessly at her through the rolled-down driver's side window. He leant in to kiss her cheek and he turned around to enter his building, waving at Reno who was on the late shift this night, playing what looked like Tetris on his phone.

Reno whistled. "Look at you, stumbling in drunk in the middle of the night. Good for you."

"I'm not stumbling," Cloud replied, and gave him the finger and a kiss blown through the air before heading for the elevator (in the morning, he'd think about that and cringe a little).

* * *

Zack was moving in the very next day, and Cloud was more excited than he could remember being in a long while.

They'd met up again for lunch at a café the day previous, on Friday, smoothing out the finalities. Zack was currently staying with a family friend just outside the city limits, taking the metro in to work every day. It had been a little under two weeks now since their first meeting and they had been growing closer ever since. There'd be a moving truck involved, and all day he and Zack would be unpacking and moving the older man in. Zack had assured him many a time that he didn't have to help, but Zack was a friend—yes, a friend, even though they hadn't known each other that long yet—and he was going to do this right.

"You sound happy about something," came the warm voice of Lazard Deusericus through the speaker of Cloud's cell phone.

"Hah, yeah. Finally found a new roommate. He's moving in this weekend."

Cloud had called Lazard just to check up, to ensure the CV boot they'd replaced a little while ago was functioning correctly. He was sorting some of Fenrir's smaller parts in a bin off to the side as he did so; Cid let him work on his bike during his lunch hour or a little later after his shift was normally over. That was unpaid, of course, but Cloud appreciated the availability of all these parts and tools at his disposal or at great discount to himself. One day soon Fenrir would be better than he'd ever been, and it was going to be glorious.

"That's great. Seems like a decent guy?"

"Yup." He carefully recorded a few numbers on a clipboard. "I see your book's still at number one on the charts—how's that? Lena said something about a possible movie deal?"

"That's kind of hush-hush, but yes." Lazard gave a great sigh on the other end, and Cloud laughed. There were some rich people—like Lazard—that Cloud enjoyed quite a bit. Lazard wrote teenage romance novels that were devoured by twenty and forty-somethings like the pages were nectar on Earth, but Lazard  _hated_ the romance genre. He confided in Cloud once, when Cloud was elbows-deep in his car's engine because everyone else had been too busy, that he wanted to write a series about a man who fought his once-hero, now-nemesis, while slowly recovering his memories of a traumatic past. It involved the military, creepy mad scientist torture, and a lot of homoerotic subtext and personally, Cloud was all for it.

In the meantime, though, Lazard's most recent work,  _Materia for Two_ , was all the rage. Cloud hoped for Lazard's sake that the whole movie thing went through.

"That's great. I know rom-coms aren't your thing," he teased, "but you could probably manage to sit through just this— _oh my god_."

"What?"

Cloud's jaw had gone slack and he forgot, for a moment, that he was still on the phone. He stumbled and knocked Fenrir's exhaust pipe to the floor with a deafening clatter, and it shocked him back into himself.

"I—holy— _dude_.  _Sephiroth_ is here."

" _Ah_. See if he's interested in starring in  _Materia for Two_ , would you?"

"Sure," Cloud said numbly, not really hearing him. "Talk to you later, Lazard." He ended the call and unsteadily placed his phone on the table behind him.

This random Saturday morning was not when he expected to see  _Sephiroth Jenova_ of all the fucking people in this city stroll into  _Highwind Auto_. Especially not with—

Genesis Rhapsodos was with him.

Both men were talking to Cid at the front desk and Cloud practically hid behind Fenrir's frame as he poked his head out to peer out at them. He hadn't seen Genesis since their disastrous meeting a week and a few days ago; he'd honestly assumed that he'd never see the guy again, but no. Sephiroth,  _Gaia._

Cloud was really not the fanboying type. Honest. Once he had been, but he was ninety-nine percent over all that. The remaining one percent belonged almost exclusively to Sephiroth Jenova, who had been Cloud's hero since  _day freaking one._

Sephiroth was a movie star. No, that wasn't it—he was so much  _more_ than a movie star. His acting was superb. He modeled. He had his own hair commercials. He ran a charity for orphans, guest-starred on all kinds of shows, was a great cook, could talk politics with the best of them, and was the biggest LGBT supporter the community had. Once, he was offered a job by Johann Palmer, one of, if not  _the_ biggest name out there, and had turned it down almost immediately after hearing Palmer make a transphobic remark in his presence.

Then he'd gone on TV and  _explained_ about why he wasn't going to take that job, and about why trans people needed visibility and rights and why the gender binary was bullshit and why he wouldn't stand for it any longer and  _basically_ he was the greatest man to ever live. Cloud totally had a poster of him and his boyfriend, Angeal Hewley, up on his wall that he'd dragged with him from Nibelheim.

Motherfucking  _God_ was less than forty feet away.

He must've not been as sneaky as he thought, because Genesis took a few steps away from Sephiroth to peer back into the bay, with its many car lifts, open space, and towering ceiling. He instantly spotted the shock of bright hair half-hidden behind a motorcycle, and Cloud saw his smile all the way from where he was.

Then, footsteps—Cloud realized not just Genesis but  _Sephiroth too_ was heading his way and he clumsily knocked a tiny box full of bolts to the ground.

"Oh, shit!" he cried, face flaming already and hurriedly dropped to his knees to scoop them all up.

He'd had a rough day—there was a dark smudge of oil across his forehead where he'd forgotten his hands were still dirty when he went to push his bangs out of his eyes, and the white beater he was wearing was sticking to him with sweat and ripped slightly near his side from a particularly ornery Harley Davidson earlier that morning.

"Hello," Genesis announced when he came to a stop on the other side of Fenrir's skeleton. His baby was the only thing keeping him separated from what was surely either his downfall or his salvation (Sephiroth, in this case—he could honestly have given less than two shits about Genesis Rhapsodos. Please).

"Uh, hi," Cloud said, without even looking up. He scooped up the last of the bolts and carefully put them back in the container they'd been in, standing carefully and placing them gently on the table away from the edge so he wouldn't knock them down again if he did something else stupid.

He met their eyes. Sephiroth towered over him. Cloud had always been, well,  _short_ , but had never felt this quite as acutely as now. Well, actually, Sephiroth seemed to be the same height as Zack, maybe somewhere around 6'3 or 6'4, but something about his attitude, his presence, maybe that  _hair_ , made it so much  _more_.

"Um," Cloud said, positive he was blushing.

Very abruptly, Genesis looked like he had just been forced to drink cat piss.

"Nice to meet you," Sephiroth said with a wide smile that was continuing to widen by the second. He extended a hand and breathlessly, eyes flicking back and forth from the hand to the man's face, Cloud shook it.

"You, uh, too, Sir. Shit, I mean—Sephiroth. Wait, you didn't tell me your name. I-I mean, obviously I know it 'cause you're  _Sephiroth_ , duh—I just—uh— _shit!_ "

Cloud turned his back to the both of them and busied himself with wiping off one of Fenrir's parts with a stained rag. His fingers were shaking and his ears felt hot; that was Cloud Strife, always making an ass of himself when it mattered most.

"Sorry," he mumbled, shoulders drawing up close to his ears.

Sephiroth's laugh was quiet and low and slid to his stomach like thick, sweet honey. "Don't worry about it."

Nodding distractedly, focusing on anything but the two men a few feet away, Cloud grabbed a wrench and crouched near Fenrir's frame. His poor bike had been completely misshapen, handlebars warped beyond recognition. The engine had been in tatters, his wheels bent, the kickstand knocked off and still somewhere out the city somewhere. His baby was doing a little better, but he still wasn't great.

"I'm, uh, fixing up my bike," Cloud said blandly when they didn't speak for a moment. Sephiroth was watching him with something like amusement, and Genesis still looked sour.

"What happened to it?"

Cloud blinked, shocked that Sephiroth— _Gaia,_ Sephiroth!—had asked him a question.

_Chill out Strife! You never let celebrities get to you._

"Accident," he replied, and gestured to his injured foot. The jeans he was wearing were ripped and dirty; the bottom was frayed badly and many little blue threads sat haphazardly on the upper part of his foam boot, some stuck in the Velcro straps that kept it together.

"It must have been pretty bad to make your bike look like that," Sephiroth said quietly, seemingly at ease in this garage, such a foreign environment to him. Cloud could imagine that Sephiroth was comfortable just about anywhere, from the middle of a swamp on a movie set or at a formal dinner in a tux, surrounded by envious others. "I'm sorry that happened to you."

So  _nice_ , Sephiroth was. Cloud turned around, on his knees on the ground beside the remains of his beloved bike, and gazed up at his hero with shining eyes. "Thank you," he said, sounding choked with wonder. "It could have been worse though, I guess."

"Okay!" Genesis said loudly, clapping his hands. "We have to be going—goodbye. It was lovely seeing you."

Sephiroth waved a hand at him (to which Cloud weakly waved back) and Genesis actually  _pulled_  the other man away. He looked livid.

Cloud watched the sway of Sephiroth's long, shiny hair until it disappeared out the front door along with Rhapsodos. He shook himself, lightly smacked his own cheek for his idiocy, and got back to work.

When he asked Cid later about what they were doing in the shop, Cid said that he didn't really know. Sephiroth had merely inquired about rates for a moment, saying vaguely that he had a car that might have a problem, and after disappearing into the bay for a few minutes for some reason they'd left, just like that.


	5. Chapter 4

"Awwwww,  _yeah_!"

Cloud huffed and puffed as he dropped a heavy box on the floor—he thought it was maybe full of books—before narrowing his eyes at Zack, who was face-down on his brand new bed and evidently enjoying it.

"C'mon," Cloud said, wiping his forehead, "I'm not doing this by myself."

"But I'm so tiiired," Zack whined, pulling his pillow over his head. Cloud laughed, walked over and lightly smacked him with it; Zack ripped it out of his hands and hit him back twice as hard in retaliation.

Eventually they made it back out to the living room, which was full of Zack's stuff. Already the new entertainment system was up; it was wood coated in some kind of black plastic covering—cheap and probably mass-produced from Ikea, but it looked nice and was way better than what they'd had before. Cloud's TV sat on top of it, along with Zack's blu-ray player and Cloud's gaming systems. They'd unpack Zack's movies and games later and figure out where exactly to put it all.

Zack was all smiles. Cloud could still hardly believe that such a friendly guy could exist—Zack was equal parts reassuring strength, solid dependability and kind earnestness; it was refreshing. Cloud was positive he'd made the right choice here.

"That one guy was pretty cute, wasn't he?" Zack asked with a wink, referring to the movers that had helped them lug a lot of the stuff like Zack's bed into the elevator and upstairs. That had been tedious, a lot of grunting and barely managing to make it around corners.

Cloud had felt obligated to inform Zack of his sexuality before anything was finalized. After all, if Zack was some kind of prejudiced, homophobic douchebag Cloud one: didn't want anything to do with him, and two: was pretty sure it would make living together very miserable, considering Cloud occasionally brought dudes back to the apartment for dinner, a movie, whatever (usually a certain special _whatever,_ the movie thing had just been once, and that had ended in 'whatever' anyway). It had been fine, though; Zack had grinned, thanked him for the honesty, and said he was totally cool with it.

He'd gotten a definitive answer on that front too; Zack was completely heterosexual (though Cloud was sure if he had to Kinsey the bastard he'd land somewhere between 1 and 2.5, but hey). Zack hadn't really known any out LGBT people back home, he'd said, but had been living in the city for a little while now. He was open-minded and seemed to like every positive thing about everybody. Cloud had, quite honestly, struck gold with his roommate pick.

"Absolutely not," Cloud groused, because the movers had been sweaty older guys who smelled like ham and a bathroom, respectively.

Zack laughed, sounding delighted.

A few hours later Cloud had to put the bottles of shampoo he'd been pulling out of a suitcase back in and stand up from his crouching position, knees cracking as he did so. The blond stretched, closing his eyes and letting out an exhausted groan. He peeked open an eye and peered at Zack. The man was lugging boxes full of his clothes into his bedroom.

"How many clothes do you even have?" Cloud asked.

The reply came half-shouted and muffled, like Zack had slipped on a t-shirt and was currently actually drowning to death in an ocean of cotton and polyester, "Too many!"

"No kidding."

Twenty minutes later Cloud was pulling on a new set of clothes after a quick shower, toweling his hair off as he attached a tiny plastic nametag that read 'Cloud' to his shirt. It made him look professional, even though his side job wasn't actually very professional at all.

Cloud had never imagined that he'd grow up to be a delivery boy. In Nibelheim as a kid there wasn't much else to do other than drool over the latest motorcycle models straight out of Junon—the whole mechanic thing had been pretty obvious.

But with businesses out there like CPS (Chocobo Parcel Services) that did all the deliveries for everybody on the freaking planet on top of the usual government-run mail service a tiny, personal delivery business seemed like the least successful thing anybody could aspire to.

The thing was, Cloud had a few things going for him. One—he had a pretty face. Two—he had his own personal transportation (or he had, before Fenrir got busted up). Three—while certainly no genius, Cloud was smart, or at least smart enough to keep his mouth shut when he had to. Four—his  _other_ job gave him perfect opportunities to meet people who could make use of his services—secretive paranoid people that didn't trust commercial delivery systems and desired someone trustworthy and a process that involved as few grubby hands and wandering eyes on packages as possible.

A week into his life at Midgar a customer had slipped a piece of paper into his pocket at the register randomly before walking back out. It was not, as he'd expected, a phone number, but a request to bring the 'container' in the trunk of a flashy convertible to a specified address. Cloud had peeked—drugs, unsurprisingly. It seemed the businessman had forgotten to take it out before dropping his car off at  _Highwind Auto_ for a checkup.

Thus, Strife Delivery Service was born.

Certainly not everything he did involved illegal substances or shady back-alley deals; most of it was perfectly legit stuff. He did have some dirt on some powerful people, though. For instance once he'd delivered a box full of lesbian sex toys and mags to one Jenny Young who lived in a mansion on the other side of town—she'd had one of the most publicized marriages in a long while to Henry Cho, who was on TIME's richest Midgarians list.

If he had been Yuffie Kisaragi, acclaimed reporter, or maybe even a guy with a lesser sense of pride, he'd have sold all his secrets for a lot of Gil and lived in his  _own_ mansion.

Sure, his apartment was shit, and sure, he had rent due soon and it was scaring him half to death, but the thought of selling someone's secrets for it made him feel sick. Nah, he'd take the high road on this one—and that was precisely why he had a clientele at all.

"Delivery stuff?" Zack asked him, popping his head out of another box as Cloud moved towards the front door, finishing buttoning up his dress shirt and simultaneously tugging on a sneaker.

"Yep," Cloud answered. "Are you gonna be alright and all without me?" It was the first time Zack would be alone in the apartment, and although his delivery wouldn't take long, Cloud couldn't help but worry a little, it was what he did.

Zack waved him away. "Yeah, I'll be good. If I finish up here I'm going to see if there's any local auditions or whatever."

Cloud beamed, Zack gave him a thumbs-up, and after a last nod and hoisting a cardboard box that was on the table into his arms Cloud left, shutting the door to the apartment behind him.

Glimpsing the temporary car Cloud had sucked a little life out of his soul every time it happened. It was silver, a hybrid, and exceedingly plain. Today Cloud huffed as he opened the door and set the package down in the passenger's seat.

"Good to see you too," he groused. He usually talked to Fenrir when driving him around—he imagined a high, nasally voice responding to him when he talked to this thing.

He skillfully maneuvered out of the parking garage, nodding to Rude as the man pressed a button to raise the metal gate that protected their cars from theft during the night. Cloud may not have liked cars all that much but he was still an excellent driver. Sometimes Cloud found himself wishing he could remember the accident, just to know exactly what had happened, but figured that he was probably much better off being blissfully ignorant of the whole thing.

Today's delivery was to a certain Vincent Valentine,  _Highwind Auto_ regular. He was one of Cid's favorites, somehow; Cid usually detested the pretty-boy types, and it was debatable that Vincent was king of the pretty-boy types with his  _Sexiest Man Alive_ thing and all. Still, they were something like friends, and occasionally Vincent would drop by the garage, appearing like a ghost and crowding near Cid before suddenly disappearing. In Vincent's presence Cid was even nice to his current wife, Shera; it was a sight to behold.

Vincent liked Cloud, though, and sometimes had him run errands. Cloud didn't mind because Vincent paid well and if he was ever having an especially tough month Vincent would suddenly have a job for him and get him over that last little bit.

Strife Delivery Service hadn't been in business lately though due to the accident and despite not being on Fenrir Cloud still enjoyed driving through the city towards his destination, the Shin-Ra building in center city. Nothing could compare to the feeling of the warm summer air whipping through his hair and making his clothes ripple around him, but Cloud could stick an arm out the rolled-down windows and it was something maybe kind of similar. Good enough for now.

Cloud clutched his package and was stopped three times by different kinds of security; he had to produce forms and authorization each time. The first time he'd done a run for someone in this building it had been worse but the guards were slowly learning to recognize him.

He exhaled with relief when he was done being examined and prodded for weapons and having his ID fed through a machine. He retreated into one of the two main elevators in the lobby, smiling cheekily at one of the female receptionists on the way up. The Shin-Ra building had over a hundred floors; it was nuts. To be perfectly honest heights made Cloud a little woozy so he had never been inclined to go all the way to the top and look out over the city, but he was sure the view was awesome.

Shin-Ra tower was home to all kinds of influential people, thus all the security out front and the swarm of teenage girls outside that somehow never seemed to have class or chores or anything to do but stalk celebrities. On the top floors were lawmakers and representatives, and the large middle section of the building was home to many members of the entertainment industry, from big names to the people that made everything work, like makeup artists to photographers to screenwriters. No one actually  _lived_ in the Shin-Ra building, he didn't think, but he wouldn't be surprised if that was the case.

Vincent had some kind of office on the 74th floor. The man did things other than just act and model; he ran some kind of collective for celebrities or something but Cloud didn't really know, nor care. On the ride up Cloud faced the door, resisting the urge to turn around and look out at the city through the back glass wall—he'd get sick.

It stopped a few times, and all kinds of people got off and on. Most didn't spare him a glance but Cloud studied them from the corner as they talked among themselves about dates and gossip and about their pets. This was a whole new world, foreign to Cloud and something he was pretty darn comfortable interacting with from a distance at work only.

Cloud wasn't  _biased_  against celebrities or anything but…well. He kind of was. It didn't matter, though, because no one cared about his personal opinion about the rich and famous, and he was cool with that.

Eventually Cloud was the only one on the elevator from the 70th floor to the 74th—he breathed a sigh of relief as the doors opened.

There was some shirtless guy in the doorway waiting to get in and Cloud moved aside to side-step him, but then he realized who it was.

Genesis Rhapsodos was staring intensely at his chest and Cloud almost crossed his arms over himself like a girl hiding her breasts from some perv before he realized Genesis was reading his name tag. It seemed almost unfathomable that Genesis hadn't yet gotten his name with how many times they'd run into each other.

With a jolt of horror Cloud realized he'd forgotten to introduce himself to Sephiroth.  _Rude_!

"Cloud," Genesis greeted, face splitting into a wide smile.

"Uh, hey," Cloud said, a bit shakily. Genesis was wearing something completely ridiculous—he looked like a diva football player with cleats, the tight red capri-like shorts complete with pads underneath, and the shoulder and chest pads he was holding in his left hand. His hair was styled off his forehead again, and he had black paint under his eyes as well as dirt and grass stains on his body that looked a little too perfectly placed.

"You caught me in the middle of a photoshoot, sorry," Genesis apologized, though he looked anything but apologetic, especially as he seemed to notice how Cloud couldn't keep his eyes off of his chest and stomach. Genesis suddenly threw out an arm to stop the elevator doors from closing on him, and they retreated.

Cloud swallowed thickly. "Oh. Uh, that's cool."

Genesis braced both arms outward, stopping the elevator doors from moving at all. "What are you doing here?"

Holding up the package higher between them like he needed to show proof Cloud replied, "Delivering something for Vincent Valentine. That's, uh, what I do sometimes—deliver stuff."

"Like another job?" Genesis asked, tilting his head.

"Er, yeah."

"I see."

A loud screeching sound came from the elevator and the doors were repeatedly coming out of the walls to bang against Genesis' hands, only to go back and try again a few seconds later. Someone walking by in the hallway behind them stopped and watched, looking very confused.

"I…should go give this to him, heh," Cloud said, taking a few steps closer. Genesis didn't seem to hear the beeping the elevator was making now—it was like the thing was pissed off.

"What's your last name?" Genesis asked, and Cloud ducked under his arm and emerged safely into the hallway. Genesis still had the doors propped open, but looked over his shoulder.

"Strife," Cloud said, and Genesis finally moved. The doors snapped shut and right before they closed Genesis shot him a flirty wink.

Needless to say, Cloud needed a moment to recover. He blushed and scowled at the lady that had stopped to witness their exchange before hurrying to his destination.

Vincent was on the phone when he entered, but deemed Cloud more important than whoever he was chatting with (a big honor, Cloud was sure) and told them to hold on.

"Hi Vincent," Cloud said with a wide smile as he placed the box on the desk.

"Cloud," Vincent said in his deep, smooth voice as he ran a hand through his hair, looking exhausted, "Thank you. Did everything go alright?"

"Yup. No problems."

"Good. Sorry I can't chat—I'll see you soon, I expect. Bill me for the delivery whenever."

"Will do." He flashed a thumbs-up and was gone, just like that.

It took a good five minutes at least to wait for the elevator at any given floor because there were just two in this huge-ass building, and Cloud didn't want to risk running into Genesis again so he took the stairs ten flights down before risking the elevator. Luckily the redhead and his stupid, sexy body was nowhere in sight and he worked hard to convince himself he wasn't running from the building when he eventually scampered back outside.

Zack was less sympathetic about it than Cloud had hoped he'd be.

"He wants to bone you," he said as soon as Cloud was done recounting what had happened and summarizing the events of the past few weeks once he got home, "and he wants you to bone him."

"…Yeah, maybe, but—"

"But what!" Zack pointed a finger at him. He was sitting on the couch, feet up on a matching footrest that Zack had acquired for the apartment. He had previously been buried in the newspaper and making some notations in a tiny notebook, and he was wearing glasses that Cloud hadn't been able to resist telling him made him look exceptionally handsome.

" _Dude_ , Genesis Rhapsodos. Don't gimme that crap."

Cloud rolled his eyes. "Yeah, whatever."

"Hey! I'm just saying. I'm not even gay, but if Genesis—or  _Angeal_ , man, he's always been my favorite—if he was basically stalking  _me_ day in and day out I'd be all over that, not worried 'cause it's weird and creepy."

The look that Cloud gave his roommate shocked a loud laugh out of the older man; he even kicked his feet a little, pounding them against the footrest.

"Definitely a 2.5," Cloud muttered before moving into the kitchen.

"A what?"

"Nothing."

By dinnertime most of Zack's things had been unpacked, and even if not all of it was neatly organized yet it was still most definitely progress. They ate some Gongagan special of Zack's on the couch, Cloud scribbling away in his checkbook and figuring out his finances while Zack continued to look through newspapers and the internet for auditions and workshops.

"What is this?" Cloud asked, poking at a lump of something on his plate. It was delicious, but he didn't have any clue what the hell it was.

"Potato, I think?"

"You're the one who cooked this—why don't you know what it is?"

"I work in mysterious ways," Zack replied vaguely.

Cloud rolled his eyes again. "Real reassuring."

When Zack was done eating he made a motion like he was going to steal Cloud's plate and the blond jerked his way and cradled it protectively. While mysterious it was delicious, although Zack had confessed that this "Gongredible Casserole" was basically the only thing beyond cereal and noodles he knew how to make. Zack pouted and got up to get more, and when he returned he asked as he plopped back down onto the couch, "Whatcha up to?"

"Money shit," Cloud sighed. His head rested back against the back of the couch and he closed his eyes. "It's…a real pain. Ever since I had my accident a few months ago, y'know."

"It can be a lot," Zack said sympathetically. "I know what you mean."

Zack was a little bit better off than Cloud and his folks from home sent him money sometimes, but they both were barely making it sometimes and that  _sucked_.

"Hey." Zack sucked on a chunk of something and took a swig of beer, tapping his finger against the outside of the bottle. "Cloud. When I make it big—and that's a  _when_ , not an  _if_ —I'm gonna get the heck out of here."

It was hard to keep the hurt and jealousy out of his voice, although Cloud knew that any sane person would do the same. "…Yeah, of course. You should move somewhere nice, like the condos by Shin-Ra."

Zack frowned. "Huh? You're coming too, dumbass!" Zack turned to him, eyes serious. "I'm gonna get us  _both_ out of here, duh. I know we haven't known each other very long, but… hey. I never leave friends behind. And we're in this together, right?"

He grinned. "Who knows, maybe you and I were friends in a past life or something."

For a long moment Cloud couldn't respond. "…Thanks, Zack," he whispered. "Yeah, we're in this together."

"Good." Zack lightly punched his shoulder and went back to his laptop, and Cloud quietly chewed what he was pretty sure was meat. A big promise like that was overwhelming, and Cloud didn't put a lot of stock in it, but Zack was the guy that seemed to do his absolute best to go through with things he said. He kept his reservations about Zack's success to himself and hoped, now for both of their sakes, that Zack managed to make it in this cutthroat, competitive world.

* * *

Three days later at work Cloud was working the goddamn desk again, glaring daggers at Cid every time he walked through the front. The man was complaining of a sore leg that demanded he walk around on it, but Cloud was positive he was just being a jerk and didn't want to do his job. It was slow, but luckily Zack was texting him all kinds of funny things about his day at the library so it could have been worse.

" _Mr. Glassman's here for his Chopper; someone bring it out, would you? I'd do it, since I'm the one that worked on it and all, but for some reason I've been stuck behind the desk…"_

From the depths of the garage somewhere Cid screamed, "SHADDAP STRIFE!"

Cloud was still laughing about it when the front door opened again. This time Genesis Rhapsodos was wearing his red coat again, but open and with a plain white t-shirt and jeans underneath it. His hair was down and he was wearing boots, but not the ones from the first time they'd met.

"Cloud Strife," he announced, striding quickly up to the desk. Cloud wasn't quite sure if he was proving that he remembered his name or what, but it successfully got Cloud's complete attention.

"I realized that the finer points of my seduction have been completely lost on you and that I've been going about this the wrong way." Genesis was powerful like this, purposeful and a hot blur of red. He leant his elbows on the counter and looked into Cloud's face. "Would you like to join me for dinner someday this week?"

"Um." Cloud was unconsciously leaning into the other man's space, thinking—as he had many times before—that it would be awfully nice to kiss the TV star. He was also pretty sure that he had just been insulted somewhere in that monologue. "Like a date?"

"Like a date," Genesis confirmed.

Actually, Cloud had been planning to work overtime every day this week, including the weekend, because next week the rent was finally due, as was payment for the helicopter that had flown him to the hospital. He had three deliveries scheduled for the weekend too.

Somehow, though, he found himself saying, "Yeah, sure. I'd like that."

"Are you free Friday night?"

"I can be."

"You will be, then. What's your phone number?"

Cloud told him, and Genesis entered it carefully into his phone. "Would you like my chauffeur to pick you up?"

"Uh, no. I can drive."

"Very well. I'll text you more information."

"Okay."

Genesis smiled charmingly at him and was gone as quickly as he'd arrived, a strut in his step that hadn't been there just a few minutes prior.

Bewildered, Cloud texted Zack:  _Genesis just asked me on a date…_

The reply was swift.  _Called it!_


	6. Chapter 5

The first time the opportunity had presented itself Zack had dragged Cloud into the bathroom and shut the door behind them. His eyes were wild and he pressed the blond into the back of the door, knocking a few towels off the hook.

"Woah," Cloud said, panicking.

Instead of kissing him senseless, though, like something out of a weird cheesy roommate-based porno Zack hissed, " _Dude_! Tifa is  _hot_! If all your girlfriends are like  _that_ you've gotta hook me up!"

Cloud's relief at not being molested by his friend was so great he doubled over as he laughed. Zack made an indignant noise and Cloud wiped tears from his eyes.

"Sorry, I thought—you—haha…"

"Cloud!" Zack screeched as it dawned on him why Cloud was laughing so hard. "No, I wasn't gonna—"

"No, I know. Sorry. Yeah, Tifa's awesome."

"You can say that again…"

Cloud lightly kicked his foot. "Hey. Don't objectify my friends."

Zack leered. "Definitely objectifying your friends right now."

Tifa raised an eyebrow when they both tumbled out of the bathroom but didn't say anything and wisely didn't comment on how Zack was wincing and rubbing his shoulder, sending Cloud pathetic puppy-eyed pouts.

Unfortunately for Zack Tifa didn't seem romantically interested at all, though she had heartily congratulated Cloud on picking a roommate that was, at least, exceedingly easy on the eyes. Zack didn't seem too bummed—rather, he seemed invigorated by the knowledge that there were some really pretty people in the city.

Tifa was over because it was the night of Cloud's date—he had been freaking a little, to be perfectly honest. It was weird because although there had been definite physical attraction between him and Genesis since the first moment they'd locked gazes in the shop Cloud still didn't know anything about him. Cloud wasn't sure he  _wanted_  to, but he shoved that feeling down.

It wasn't fair for him to be so unwilling to go on a damned date just because his date was a rich celebrity. Most people, he knew, would be jumping at the chance. He just didn't especially like a lot of Genesis' peers and so far Genesis had proved himself to be kind of a jerk.

He was persistent, though, and he didn't seem to care that Cloud's socioeconomic class was so different from his own. He didn't know what the man's intentions were—sex, a  _relationship_?—but he figured he'd find out soon. Still, Genesis' nonchalance about their differences counted for something, and it counted enough that Cloud was willing to give him this chance. He felt he had deserved it.

It was just a date, after all—no stress. At least, not a  _lot_ of stress.

So that was why Tifa was currently burrowed in his closet and tsking as she threw things every which way.

"You're  _gay_ Cloud, where are all your cute clothes?"

"Don't stereotype," Cloud shot back.

He laughed when Tifa sent him a sour look and then harder when Zack hesitantly offered from the doorway, "I, uh, have some stuff that might look good on him?"

"He's got an entire department store in there," Cloud acknowledged. Zack scratched the back of his neck and disappeared into the next room.

Cloud then suffered half an hour of Tifa going through  _Zack's_ room only to decide that Zack's stuff was too tight in the shoulders for Cloud's "stupid mechanic gorilla arms" and too long anyway, given that Zack was a few inches shy of an entire foot taller than Cloud. Then they were back in Cloud's room and Cloud lay on his bed, eyes closed and quelling down nervousness until Tifa tossed him his nicest button-up shirt, some gray silky thing, and a black tie. She then gave him some black dress pants and ordered him to go shower, which he did with a grumble.

In the bathroom Cloud stared at his reflection in the mirror for a long minute. The urge to freak out, to give in to self-pity and his own inadequacy was strong, but he wouldn't let it.

Genesis Rhapsodos was not better than Cloud purely because of his wealth, or his fame. He simply wasn't. Cloud wasn't about to go into that date with that mentality, because it would ruin him.

He sprayed on his best cologne, brushed his teeth and even used mouthwash, then wandered into his bedroom. Tifa and Zack were talking in the living room, and Cloud smiled as he noticed Tifa had even picked out his underwear. She must have had high hopes about tonight's date—Cloud had to say, no matter the outcome or whether or not Genesis wanted to go further with this, he could do a lot worse than having sex with a gorgeous celebrity, one night or no. That wasn't to say that he was going to have sex with Genesis—he never had before on the first date (although the second was a total green light).

He dressed with the utmost care and carefully played with his hair in the mirror. It was all over the place at the best of times and if he tried to tame it in any way it usually got worse out of spite.

Zack and Tifa both hooted as he joined them; Cloud resisted the urge to flush and sat on the footrest after shoving Zack's feet to the side. There was still half an hour before Cloud had to leave and he wanted to spend it watching Zack and Tifa interact.

Tifa was, after all, Cloud's best friend, and her opinion meant a ton to him.

He hadn't had a lot of friends growing up back home. Nibelheim was shitty for that kind of thing. It was a tiny mountain town high up in the Nibel Mountains that took hours and hours to reach from Rocket Town, which was probably closest. As a result Nibeheians were very self-sufficient but also very secluded, steeped in tradition and based entirely on precedent.

Cloud and Tifa met when they were three years old and visiting the Temple in town; Tifa said that she was going to grow up to be stronger than Gaia, their Goddess, and had gotten a spank from her father, the Mayor, because of it. Cloud had bravely told him not to hit his daughter, then had cried all the way back to his mom after getting a spank of his own.

The Strifes lived on the outside of town and because Cloud had never known his father the rest of the townspeople weren't fond of their family at all. It wasn't his mom's fault—the guy had just split a few months into her pregnancy. Neither of them knew where he was, or if he was even alive.

Despite being in the 'popular crowd' growing up Tifa still found time to play with the weird kid from the edge of town who tinkered with car engines and tires. Cloud's mom had a heart attack one day while he was in town grocery shopping—it had taken a long time to get over it and sometimes Cloud thought he never would be. That had been when Cloud was just barely over twenty, and he had lived with Tifa for a time as he picked his life back up.

Tifa was over the small-town life, though, and they'd plotted together their move to the city and all it would entail. Then Mayor Lockhart had died, and the inheritance was enough for Tifa to purchase  _Seventh Heaven._ They'd left, packing up everything they had and moving. That was what so many people did and Cloud and Tifa were both lucky to have what they had now, stable jobs and housing that wasn't in the worst parts of town.

For a time Cloud had lived with Tifa at the bar, but then he'd gotten the job at  _Highwind Auto_ and got his own place, because he and Tifa weren't exactly the best roommates and because he wanted some of his own independence. They still saw each other at least three or four times a week, though; they were in it together and Cloud suspected they always would be.

They were on the same wavelength, as usual. Tifa asked Zack about what he was doing here in Midgar and as Zack began to explain his acting aspirations she shot Cloud a quick look that spoke volumes— _for his sake I hope he's successful, though I don't think he will be._

Cloud nodded, a bit sadly, then smiled widely at Zack as he rambled, "-and she said, 'y'know, Zack, why don't you think about acting professionally?' and I said, 'wow, I never thought about it, but that sounds cool' and the next thing I know I'm here!"

"That's funny," Tifa murmured, nervously bouncing her knee up and down.

"And you were living with a friend here in the city? Who was that?"

"Oh, Kunsel. He's the cousin's son of a cousin or something like that back home—moved here a few years ago. We were friends as kids. He's cool. I'll introduce you sometime."

Zack then asked Tifa about herself and Cloud had to groan miserably at all the right moments as Tifa recounted their childhood. They'd both been little disasters, Cloud quiet but rebellious, angry and a little stuck-up, and Tifa loud and reckless, always getting into fights.

They were in the middle of comparing Nibelheim and Gongaga when Cloud reluctantly stood, getting a wave of nausea from his stomach as he did so. "Looks like I've got to go," he said.

" _Awwww_ ," Tifa cooed, seeing something in his face, "Don't be nervous. He's just some dick, right?"

"A rich, devastatingly handsome dick," Zack supplied.

Cloud scowled. "Thanks for that."

They both assured him he'd be fine and pushed him out of the apartment. Cloud patted his pockets to make sure he had everything on him and took the stairs down instead of the elevator, jogging to work off some of his nervous energy.

Genesis had texted him the day before with an address, a flirty emoticon and an order to dress  _semi-formally_. Cloud didn't exactly know what that entailed; his version of semi-formal was a pair of jeans with no rips and a plain t-shirt with no grease stains. The pretty button-up with freaking cufflinks was definitely new for him, as was the shiny dress shoe on his uninjured foot. He would have worn a black suit jacket or something but he didn't own one, and it was too hot for that anyway. As it was Cloud sweated as he walked to the parking garage (after getting a hoot from Reno as he spotted what Cloud was wearing, of course).

"Looks like it's just you and me," he said to the rental car.

The drive was stressful. Cars were bulky and slow where motorcycles were sleek and fast—he could weave in and out of traffic easily and slide into tiny spaces where cars couldn't. It was Friday night and it seemed everybody in the entire city had a date, because traffic moved at a crawl. Eventually though he made it to the restaurant where Genesis wanted to eat and found a parking spot two blocks away through some miracle.

His palms were sweaty as he walked back to the restaurant; it had a name in some language Cloud couldn't read. There was valet parking but Cloud hadn't done it because he didn't want to pay for it. He ducked past the valet guys and in the front door.

The inside was spacious, all cream colors with soft golden lighting. Piano music played over speakers somewhere, or perhaps there was an actual piano player tucked in a corner, he couldn't tell. The tables were a good distance from each other and weren't crammed together so that you were practically on top of the person behind you like where Cloud was used to eating. It was… a bit overwhelming, especially the artistic waterfall with live fish swimming around by the door.

He greeted a woman behind a tall pedestal who was dressed in a crisp suit that, frankly, looked a bit ridiculous; it was frilly and seemed to consist of a part that looked like a giant bib with buttons. The look she gave him, though, seemed to echo his own thoughts exactly.

Okay, so maybe everyone else here was dressed a little nicer than him—he was used to being underdressed. This lady could Kiss. His. Ass.

"I've got a reservation with Genesis Rhapsodos," he told her confidently.

Her face was almost comical. She flipped through a notebook she had and squinted at it for a moment.

"ID?" she questioned.

Cloud rolled his eyes very blatantly; he doubted this happened to everybody who came here. Regardless he pulled out his ID and presented it, feeling like a kid getting carded for a violent video game.

Eventually he got it back, along with a raised eyebrow. "Right this way, Mr. Strife," she said, and Cloud followed another woman to a table in the back corner of the restaurant. Genesis, it seemed, hadn't arrived yet. It was a tiny two-seater, and he meant  _tiny_ –the circular table didn't look big enough to contain big plates of food as well as their forearms and hands. Even the chair was tiny; Cloud felt kind of cramped.

_Rich people actually like this kind of place_?

A waiter brought him water and asked if he wanted any wine to start—Cloud, floundering, said he'd just wait for his companion to show up. The man disappeared and Cloud shifted in his seat, feeling foolish already.

He propped his chin up with his elbow and gazed around at the restaurant. It was pretty full and there was a long line of people outside—those without reservations, he guessed. Sucked to be them. There was a cute elderly couple nearby and Cloud smiled to himself as he watched them. Then the man shot him a dirty look and went back to his lobster and Cloud frowned.

_It's not like I was hitting on his ancient wife, sheesh_.

To entertain himself Cloud looked down at the table settings. There was a candle on the table between them, two lacy placemats, and a lot of silverware. Cloud poked one of two forks, wondering what the slightly shorter one was for. There was a conspicuous lack of the usual black plastic container containing the multicolored packets of sugar and sugar substitute.

The chair in front of him was pulled back and Cloud looked up. And there was Genesis Rhapsodos in all his glory—he was wearing a suit—a _suit_! It wasn't a very formal suit and he wore it open with a jet black button-up shirt, no tie, that had a few buttons open to reveal his collarbone. His hair was up again, stylishly gelled in a cool wave that went over the right half of his forehead.

He looked like a million Gil, truly, as cheesy as it sounded.

Cloud hurriedly stood, nearly banging his knee on the underside of the too-small table. Genesis smiled at him calmly—he didn't look nearly as nervous as Cloud felt.

"You look great," Cloud blurted.

Genesis sat, and Cloud did the same. "So do you," he murmured, and his gaze was hot as it slid over Cloud's body.

The waiter was suddenly back (making Cloud wonder if he had been stalking their table ever since he had left), gracing Genesis with water. Genesis ordered them wine and picked up the menu as it was placed in front of him; Cloud did the same and stared unseeingly at the words written.

It was Mideelian food—Cloud had had Mideelian, what, twice in his life? Even then it hadn't been this fancy; he didn't understand what anything was and was hesitant to ask.

"Thank you for joining me, Cloud," Genesis said with a smile. Cloud peeked at him over the top of his menu and nodded. "How was your day?"

"Uh, good. My roommate's almost totally moved in—I was helping him some earlier. We get along great."

"What's his name?"

"Zack. Zack Fair. He's from Gongaga."

"Ah, really? That's close to where I grew up."

Cloud blinked; he'd figured Genesis was a Midgar man through-and-through. "And where's that?"

"Banora. It's a small country town—known for its apple orchards."

"Oh. Cool."

_Cool_. Cloud winced.

The waiter was suddenly back and Cloud hadn't even begun to skim the menu; he'd been concentrating too much on how to respond to Genesis without sounding like an idiot.

Genesis ordered his food and, turning bright red and panicking, Cloud had to say, "I'll have what he's having, please."

The waiter gave him a look and Cloud raised his chin defiantly.  _Asshole._

"Where are you from?" Genesis asked once the waiter disappeared. "You have a lovely accent, especially when you get angry." He had somehow managed to cross his legs under the table, a feat Cloud was positive he wouldn't be able to accomplish. He looked  _comfortable_  here in this world of jeweled crystal and classical music and too many forks. It was bizarre.

Cloud, positive Genesis was teasing him about their previous meetings, replied coolly, "Nibelheim. It's in the Nibel mountains. The closest town is Rocket Town; that's on the other side of the mountain."

Genesis was smiling self-indulgently, leaning back in his chair and surveying everything like he owned it. The blond had no idea what was going on in his head and it was making him nervous. "Cold there, I presume?"

"Very," Cloud confirmed. He smiled hesitantly, and Genesis returned it with confidence. "So, ah," Cloud stuttered, rubbing the back of his neck in a gesture he was positive he was somehow picking up from Zack after just a few weeks, "What made you become an actor?"

"I saw Sephiroth in his first role, actually…  _Shiva's Heart_ , do you remember that movie?"

"Yes," Cloud said. He had never heard of it in his entire life.

"I thought he was great. I'm a year older than him, you know—it made me angry that he was already finding fame while I was still nobody; acting seemed the quickest way to get there."

"You were mad at Sephiroth?" Cloud parroted, because he couldn't imagine  _anybody_ being mad at Sephiroth except, well…a rival.

Genesis nodded and smiled straight white teeth. "We go way back. I'm best friends with Angeal Hewley; we grew up together."

He then asked Cloud why he decided to be a mechanic and Cloud told him a story about how as a kid one of the few cars in town had been drunkenly driven into a tree. The thing was dumped somewhere and Cloud had snuck out of his house one day, probably about seven or eight years old, to go take a look at it. It had fascinated him, all the parts, and he'd spent a good few hours a day poking around at it until he got caught and wasn't allowed to come back. Then he'd gone to the library and had asked the librarian for all the car magazines—included in the stack had been one for motorcycles and he'd ignored all the others in favor of that one, then stolen the magazine and hidden it under his mattress like how a teenager hides porn.

Genesis seemed sufficiently interested, eyes sparkling with amusement as the blond described his young self's actions. Cloud didn't know much about Banora, but he supposed that to the average person living in Midgar or who had lived in the city for a long time simple stuff like running through the woods as a grubby, skinny kid to poke at the wreckage of some stupid car did seem pretty precious.

The food came out and Cloud abruptly realized why the tables were able to be so small—the plates were miniscule. They were probably only an inch bigger than the span of his hand fully stretched out, and it wasn't even overflowing or anything. There was a presumably artful rectanglish lump of a pinkish something on a bed of a whitish something else and it was all drizzled in a fancy splash of some kind of sauce with a sprig of some weird herb on the side.

Very quickly Cloud reached for the glass of wine Genesis had poured and chugged the whole thing. Genesis raised an eyebrow but didn't comment and Cloud embarrassedly lowered the empty glass back down, only to have the redhead refill it.

Genesis picked up the shorter fork and one of the knives and Cloud watched him closely without trying to look like he was watching him closely, then mimicked the careful acquisition of food and the neat push into his mouth.

Cloud nearly gagged. He  _hated_ fish, hated all seafood as far as that was concerned, and this was some kind of uncooked filet of pure shit. Still, he smiled and choked it down, because he didn't want to make an ass of himself in this place of all places. The white stuff's aftertaste tasted fishy; he hoped it wasn't something horrifying like sheep stomach in haggis and this was, like… fish stomach. Fish had stomachs, right?

"What kind of stuff do you like to do?"

This was all kinds of frustrating. Cloud was not some kind of bumbling fool when it came to love—he was plenty capable of going up to any dude he wanted and fucking him before the night was through, or being fucked himself, or any arrangement thereof—he wasn't picky and was good at anything he chose to do. The point was that he was good at this, at getting contact with people, with making meaningful (if temporary) relationships, of worming his way bit by bit into people's hearts.

With confidence, though. Cloud usually knew what he was doing. He had never been with someone quite so much out of his league, and it was terrifying to leave that familiar ball of comfort he'd become accustomed to.

Genesis Rhapsodos, with his ridiculously amazing hair that Cloud was itching to touch and his expensive clothes and cameos on television, was uncharted territory. Cloud wasn't even talking about his body (although Gaia knew he wouldn't mind exploring  _that_ with his fingers, lips, or tongue), he meant the cocky, suave attitude and general outlook on life. He was just so  _different_ form the usual it set Cloud off his game, treading water in a lake far too deep for him to touch the bottom with his toes.

"Poetry is a great pleasure of mine. Do you have a favorite poem?"

Cloud's mind went blank. "Uh… no. But I like to make haikus about stuff sometimes."

Genesis chuckled but tragically seemed to believe him—Cloud had been totally joking. "Let's hear one then."

"Uhh…" Cloud had to pause for a second to remember how many syllables were in the damn things. " _I don't speak Mideelian / What the hell are we eating? / What is this white stuff_?"

"Five, seven, five," Genesis corrected him, not unkindly. He smiled at Cloud, and his lips looked extremely kissable. "And this is some form of cauliflower and potatoes. I believe either tuna or salmon is involved somehow; I forget, yet I order this every time I come here."

"Oh," Cloud said, already kicking himself.  _Haikus, Gaia! Just kill me. Lamest date conversation goes to…_

Cloud didn't have the heart to tell him the food sucked; he figured that on top of looking like an alcoholic and cursing at the table of this fancy restaurant he'd fucked up their date enough. He desperately asked Genesis to tell him more about his acting career, just so he wouldn't get a chance to open his mouth and make a fool out of himself again.

With every word that came out of Genesis' mouth Cloud slunk lower in his chair. Genesis had apparently worked with nearly everyone and been nearly everywhere; his eyes lit up prettily as he explained something he was passionate about, which was fantastic. It made an emotion like deep affection thrum deep in his belly, he  _liked_  Genesis like this, but he just couldn't relate.

They were too different, and that was just fact. Cloud didn't belong here.

Shoveling down the rest of his food had been brutal but he'd done it so he didn't look like a jerk. Genesis paused in his story about his work with Squall Leonhart when the waiter came by with his check. With a heavy heart Cloud reached for his wallet, but Genesis whipped his card out before Cloud knew what was happening and suddenly the waiter was back, wishing them a good evening and giving them complimentary mints that probably didn't even taste that good.

"Don't worry about it," Genesis told him, waving away his protests. "My treat."

"I'll, uh, buy next time," Cloud said feebly. He wasn't so sure there would be a next time.

Cloud's unease must have been more visible than he thought because Genesis, who had seemed like he was gearing up for a long chat here at the table, stood up. He looked over his shoulder to see if Cloud was following and left the restaurant, nodding amiably to a few people at the door who pointed and stared.

The fresh air did wonders for his lungs; he hadn't realized how still and stuffy ( _oppressive_ ) it had been in that place. Genesis waited for Cloud to catch up on the sidewalk outside and he actually grabbed for Cloud's hand, his hold loose and hesitant like he expected Cloud to draw away. He almost did, but instead gripped the older man's hand tightly, fingers twining together. Genesis' fingers were thinner and his skin was smooth, uncalloused, whereas Cloud's told the story of his profession—tiny cuts, abrasions, knobbly knuckles and one or two bruised fingernails that were completely dark under the nail and would remain so until they grew out. Somehow, though, it felt nice, and they held hands as they silently walked for another block.

"Is something wrong, Cloud?" Genesis questioned.

"I'm…sorry, Genesis."

"For what?"

"For…" Cloud paused and turned his head, looking back at the restaurant they'd left. "For sucking at all this. Look—you're awesome. You're hot and I'm glad we did this—but this—that—it's just not my scene, you know? Fancy restaurants like that, that whole thing, I just…can't do it.

"I'm a mechanic, man. We both should've known that would have gone badly."

Unknowingly Cloud had led them both back to where he had parked his car. It had another eleven minutes before the till ran out and he'd get a ticket.

Genesis stopped walking and the hand that wasn't holding his came up to cup Cloud's cheek. Cloud's blue eyes were bright and feverish in the lights from the shops in the street; people bustled every which way around them, nobody sparing a thought for the two men standing there on the verge of something that had the potential to be either very great, or a complete waste of time.

"It didn't go badly," Genesis chastised him. "You were lovely. I should have anticipated a setting like that making you uncomfortable though…how about you plan the date next time?"

Cloud didn't answer, and Genesis tilted his head, his hair flopping forward a bit to cover his one eye. "That is, if you would like a next time."

Self-pity had never been one of Cloud's traits. He was usually headstrong and secure enough to have faith in his decisions. He wasn't wealthy, no, but it usually didn't get to him. He was fine with it and happy with his life, happy with being friends with some rich people but not envious of their lives or their lifestyles. Hanging out with Vincent or chatting with Lazard had never made him feel insecure, had never made him feel spine-tingling shame or nervousness; he'd never wanted to  _impress_ anyone before. What was so special, then, about Genesis? Was Cloud losing his touch? Was Genesis that much of a dick that he had somehow hurt Cloud's feelings, so deep down he wasn't aware of it yet?

Or was it that Cloud had never cared about anyone's opinion before now?

"Genesis," Cloud said softly, at a loss for words, "Why are you trying so hard?"

_I hardly know you. I don't even really_ like  _you yet. What's with all the effort?_

Cloud exhaled, and it was shaky.

The redhead went quiet for a moment, his fingertips sliding down Cloud's smooth cheek to fall by his side. "When you yelled at me," he began, looking thoughtful, like he was choosing every word, "I was forced to, for the first time in a long time, I believe, see myself as others see me—and it wasn't very good, I have to say."

"You're an asshole," Cloud murmured in agreement, a smile tugging at his lips.

Genesis' eyes showed his laughter at that one. "I liked that you made me do that. Plus," he added, a hand creeping to Cloud's waist, "You're awfully cute. A gem in that garage of yours for sure. I'm also not very good at giving up where the  _romantic chase_  is involved."

Genesis was most definitely still an asshole, but recognition was the first step to change, after all. It was good enough for Cloud.

"Do you kiss on the first date?" he asked, deadly serious.

"Absolutely," Genesis replied, and then Cloud was on him, dragging him down into a rough, bruising kiss. Cloud's evening had been terrible—he'd been out of his depth in more ways than he could count but in  _this_ , at least, he knew what he was doing; they were equals. You couldn't tell the upper class lips from the lower class lips and that was perfectly all right with Cloud—with both of them, maybe.

Genesis ended up sandwiched between Cloud's body and the side of the stupid rental car but he didn't seem to mind—his hands immediately went to Cloud's hair and pulled; Cloud chuckled, imagining Genesis had been aching to do that. The redhead kissed just like Cloud had thought he would, with enough skill to make his toes curl in his dress shoe and ridiculous foam boot. Cloud's fingers grappled at the front of Genesis' suit jacket and pulled until the man's chest was flush against his.

They made out desperately against the car until someone, probably drunk and from a nearby bar, jeered at them. Genesis drew back and gave the man the finger, and Cloud laughed.

"I'll talk to you-" Cloud swooped in for another kiss, lingering and sweet, "-sometime this week-" and another, "-about what time-" and one more, "-we'll go out again." Then he kissed Genesis again, just because.

It seemed impossible to Cloud now that he hadn't given a shit about Genesis at first. Heck, he'd been attracted to the guy but he hadn't stood out; he'd just been one of those attractive Midgar types. Just like everyone else, because  _everyone_ was gorgeous around here.

Now, with his hair a mess and his lips reddened and slick with spit, Cloud could hardly imagine not being desperately, carnally attracted to the guy. He wanted to open the door behind Genesis, make him tumble back and crawl in after him, side of the street be damned.

Genesis was definitely growing on him, that was for sure. They didn't know each other very well yet and there was still so much that hadn't been fully addressed like their antagonism at first and their intentions here—but hey, that's what the next date was for.

Lost in his thoughts, he didn't realize Genesis was quickly straightening his clothes. He winked at Cloud, reached down to squeeze his bottom (prompting an embarrassing squeak from the younger man) and was suddenly halfway down the block, waving back at him.

"Goodnight!" Cloud called, feeling silly and young and invigorated, because even though he'd made an ass of himself Genesis still wanted to keep trying.

Gaia help him, Cloud wanted to keep trying too.


	7. Chapter 6

This time it was over by the vending machine. The thing was empty, partly because they were all hungry sons of bitches, and partly because Cid was too lazy to restock it most of the time. Anyway, over by the old, rickety thing with the gummy '8' button and the change return that conveniently (for Cid) never worked, a deal was being made.

"It's happenin' again."

Cid was leaning over his shoulder, whispering gruffly into his ear as Cloud refitted a custom bike with a new tire. Cloud grinned and rolled his eyes at his boss.

"What d'you think it is?" Cid passed him the air tube that goes under the tire and helped him press it into place with a grunt. Cid was reaching a comfortable middle age but was as youthful as the rest of his employees, able to diagnose any problem with a car just by looking at it. His hands were capable and strong as they pushed and held.

"Movie?" Cloud shrugged and they finally managed to pop everything back into place.

"I'm thinkin' more like music, maybe. Ain't April there a singer?"

"I wouldn't know."

"…Huh. Hell, me neither."

They shared a quiet laugh and halfheartedly watched the conversation occurring in the corner of the bay. This happened sometimes—an actor or actress here for a checkup or to fix a fenderbender would run into a casting agent here for some other issue. They'd get to talking, and soon enough they'd leave together and in the coming months some  _Highwind Auto_ -born creation would be on the big screen. In various locations in this tiny garage singers had been linked to producers and struggling authors had run into publishers.

"I'm gonna start chargin' a royalty for all this shit," Cid grumbled as the couple walked out in deep conversation.

"That'll be the day. Then you could pay us better."

Cid noogied Cloud hard after helping him for a few more minutes, making Cloud scowl and flip him off. Cid sauntered off to no doubt harass another employee.

Fenrir looked sad and poor there, still half-restored. His bike was an awesome piece of machinery that he'd built himself back home and had been steadily improving since arriving in the city. To see Fen so beat up hurt him deep down. He patted the bike's frame consolingly, then jumped out of his skin when from behind him a voice said, "Hello Cloud!"

" _Agh_! Aerith!" Cloud spun around and barely resisted the urge to throw his wrench. That would have been very, very bad; striking  _Aerith Gainsborough_ of all people would be disastrous for him.

Aerith laughed her usual musical laugh at him.

"What are you doing here?" Cloud asked as he stood up fully from his crouch. "You were just here a week or two ago, weren't you?"

"I came to show Cid my thanks," she replied, all sunny smiles, "You too, of course." She wiggled her arm, which was connected to a biodegradable tote bag that looked like it was full of homemade cookies.

"Oh,  _Aerith_ ," Cloud said, arms out and moving towards the bag like a zombie. Aerith lightly swatted at his hands and told him to wait until she saw Cid. He had been the one to perform her car's checkup and thus got first dibs. Cloud pouted but acquiesced, and he followed Aerith as she trotted off into the garage to find his boss.

"Cid," Aerith called, and a few workers' heads popped out from underneath the hoods of cars they had been working on or around corners, because usually where there was Aerith there was food.

Sure enough Cid came out of the break room after about a tenth of a second, eyes wild. He gave Aerith a great scruffy kiss on the cheek and then suddenly had a snickerdoodle in his gullet and a peanut butter cookie halfway on its way to joining it.

Cloud's pout must have been too much to handle because then he had a few cookies too and he smiled to himself, thanked Aerith again, and went back to the bike he'd been restoring. Aerith finished her rounds, feeding and chatting with all the employees, then made her way back to Cloud, perching on an upturned crate.

"Don't get your dress all gross," Cloud warned. Aerith waved him away.

Aerith was quiet for a long minute, watching Cloud work, so he asked, "What's up?" Aerith was a very busy bee indeed with her multitude of talents, singing, acting, blackbelt jiu-jitsu fighting and snickerdoodle baking just to name a few, so Cloud had never seen her for very long in one place.

The woman sighed, looking despondent in her little pink dress in the middle of the dirty garage. Tifa hated dresses and so had his mom so they always threw him a little. Once Tifa had told him she'd dreamt Cloud had worn a ridiculous purple dress and gone by  _Cloudia_  and that was honestly enough to turn Cloud off dresses entirely forever, but Aerith looked quite nice in just about everything. "It's silly," she grumbled.

Cloud reassured, "You can tell me," and then wondered if he now had enough experience to add  _celebrity therapist_ to his ever-growing list of occupations.

"It's love, Cloud. It's stupid."

"What, did you have a bad date or something?"

Aerith looked sour at being figured out so easily; it made Cloud laugh to see her sweet mouth, usually brightly smiling on makeup ads or whatever the hell, twisted in annoyance. "Kind of," she confessed, and Cloud smiled at her.

"Hey. It's not all bad. He was probably a jerk anyway."

"I don't know," Aerith protested, nervously smoothing down her dress over her knees, "In all my roles I'm always stuck as this girl who falls helplessly in love with the 'charming male lead'—it's crap!"

"It's kind of crap," Cloud agreed. "Doesn't mean you won't meet somebody some other kind of way and it won't be just as—if not more—meaningful. Y'know?"

Aerith was silent for a moment and then she asked him, eyes narrowing a little, "Did you meet someone, Cloud?"

"No!"

"Yes you did!" She poked him in the side with her polka-dotted flat shoe and Cloud held up his hands in surrender.

"Kinda. We just had one date. Got another tomorrow."

"That's great! Anyone I know?"

Cloud was hesitant to reveal the information, because knowing him they would never be an item, just some exciting temporary fling before gravitating to people more like themselves. Aerith was trustworthy, though, and he found himself saying quietly, "Genesis Rhapsodos."

"…Oh my." Aerith's hand came to cover her mouth; Cloud was positive she was hiding laughter.

"Hey!"

"No, I think you'll be cute together. Keep me updated, okay?" Aerith stood, probably ready to leave, angst temporarily resolved.

"Okay," Cloud agreed with a fond eye roll. "And don't you get all depressed and stressed out yet. Can't have any gray hairs on that big screen, everybody will notice."

Aerith swatted him with her tote bag and left after saying goodbye to Cid. Cloud watched her go with amusement and pulled out his phone on his next break, shooting Zack a text:  _I just spoke with an idol of yours…_

The rest of the day wrapped up slow, with few customers and a whole lot of nothing. Cid let him work on Fenrir and Cloud busied himself happily. He couldn't stop the tiny bursts of excitement that went through him, though, whenever anybody walked in; it was probably a good thing though that Genesis' surprise visits weren't a regular thing.

_Genesis_. They hadn't spoken since their date the past Friday, and it was now the following Thursday. Cloud had been planning a date in the back of his head for the whole week and hoped it would go over well. Thinking about last Friday still made Cloud cringe a little bit, but it wasn't all bad. Sure, yeah, he'd been out of his element and it had showed. He'd probably been a little pathetic. He'd whined about his job and status but Genesis hadn't seemed to care; he'd swept away Cloud's worries with a soft hand and a warm mouth and that absolutely okay with Cloud Strife.

In truth he wasn't sure how to go about this. The whole classic  _dinner as a first date_ thing had never really been his style; he was more of a do stuff kind of guy if he ever did the dating thing at all anyway. Usually his relationships were purely physical, lots and lots of sex in a very short amount of time followed by an amiable break-up with no hurt feelings afterward. It wasn't wrong or right, just different, but like all things, he supposed, it got kind of boring too.

That wasn't to say that if Genesis wanted to fuck he'd say no— _hell no_ , not after the brief sampling of Genesis' fiery, intoxicating sexuality he'd had last week. He just wasn't in the habit of having casual sex with celebrities, is all.

There was also the small matter of Genesis being a total weirdo. Cloud  _still_ didn't know exactly what was up with the man popping up all around town all the time and the weird way he'd be quiet and watch him, speaking only to inevitably piss him off. Maybe Genesis was just terrible at chatting people up (though he doubted it), or maybe the goal of his game had been to psyche Cloud out. He got the feeling that Genesis was very amused, like watching a rat run around in a maze with a swelling feeling of arrogance—look at that rat run! From what he knew of the man that could very well be the case.

Rhapsodos, full to the brim with his own self-importance, had hit on and persisted with the blond mechanic that shook up his world in that tiny way because he had wanted to, because it was something of a challenge, and because he was the kind of man to enjoy a good chase purely for the sake of the chase itself.

Cloud could live with that, maybe.

At any rate, he didn't stress it. The day ended calmly and he said goodbye to his co-workers and boss before driving home. He stopped to chat with Reno and Rude in the lobby before going upstairs to his room.

"Tell me who it is!" Zack roared as soon as Cloud stepped inside his apartment.

"…What?" Cloud questioned, eyes wide. He dropped his keys on the counter and gawked at Zack, who had a rolled-up newspaper in one hand and looked a little wild.

"Who you met today!"

"Oh." Zack had responded to his text with a few guesses, and after saying  _nope_ a few times he'd forgotten and his phone had stayed in his back pocket ever since. He pulled it out—ten texts from Zack with different names. After a quick scan Cloud grinned. "One of them was right."

"Who?"

"Aerith Gainsborough."

"… _Woah_."

Cloud laughed at Zack's expression and moved past him to strip off his dirty shirt as he moved towards the bathroom for a shower. He was always gross after a day's hard work.

"Yup!" he called through the door, and when he emerged a lot cleaner than he'd been upon entering Zack still apparently hadn't gotten over the news.

"And this isn't the first time you've talked to her?" Zack clarified.

Cloud saw right through his cool act and laughed. "No. Now stop fanboying and make me something to eat."

After dinner they gathered solemnly around the island in the middle of the kitchen. Zack's brows were furrowed and Cloud's lips were pursed with displeasure. Zack scribbled away on a sheet of scrap paper with a pencil, Cloud had to keep checking papers pulled out of a tiny organizational bin he kept in his room, and they managed it. Zack refused to lick the envelope shut, saying something about how one lady grew cockroach larvae on her tongue after licking an envelope that had microscopic cockroach eggs embedded in the glue, so Cloud did it with a lot of eye-rolling and they left the apartment together.

In Zack's hand was their first joint rent payment. Two neat little checks sat inside, and upstairs were some more that they'd written up after figuring out bills and other costs. Cloud had even more stuff related to his hospital bills in his room.

This was a big moment. They trooped down the elevator to the lobby of the building and after a last double-check to make sure that the stamp and address written on the front was all-systems-go they slid the letter through the 'outgoing mail' slot. It hit the bottom of the container with a plop and they stared at it.

"Well," Zack said after a moment. "There we go. One down."

"Yeah," Cloud answered. He lingered a moment more before heading back upstairs.

Back in their room—the room they were now totally  _paying for_ , together, as a team—they settled on the couch with popcorn, an ass-ton of beer and rapidly-melting ice cream. Zack had hooked up his laptop via a cord to the TV and had pirated a bunch of movies and episodes of shows earlier that afternoon; they were planning to methodically watch everything Genesis Rhapsodos had ever acted in.

Three hours later they were both tipsy and trying to hide their manly tears from the other. "You're crying," Cloud said thickly, as if accusing Zack would stop his own eyes from watering.

"Am not," Zack protested, but he swiped his eyes with the back of his wrist and his argument was pretty much rendered invalid. On screen Genesis' character, a man named Clarence, was finding out that his wife had died.

Another hour later they were both drunk and hanging off the couch as they laughed—Cloud  _hated_ romantic comedies with a passion but Genesis was alarmingly charming and quirky; he was fucking hilarious, though that was at least a little bit due to all the alcohol they'd drank. They only managed to finish two of Genesis' three movies and one episode of  _Law and Chaos: Midgar Division_ that Genesis had guest-starred in (as a serial rapist, no less!), but it was a good start. The credits for the show rolled and Cloud, with his head on the arm of the couch and Zack sprawled on his lower half, head over his stomach, couldn't find it in him to move to his bedroom.

After fishing the remote out from under the couch with his arm that hung down Zack muted the television. He looked up and Cloud looked down; the rapidly flashing lights of the TV, now on some random infomercial, threw Zack's face into bright color to dark shadow and back. Cloud's fingers, slightly numb from alcohol, came to worm their way through the thick spikes on the top of Zack's head. He gently scratched Zack's head and it drooped heavily onto his stomach in response. The man it was attached to let out a quiet gust of air and mumbled sleepily through closed lids, "M'glad we're roommates."

"Me too," Cloud answered, and there was a lot more that he was responding to, he knew. Zack was glad that they had found each other in this big city, that so far everything was going great, and that they weren't hungry, cold, or sick. They had each other now, and they were making it, or at least as well as they could.

"Good," Zack replied quietly, and soon after he was asleep, limbs spilling off the edge of the couch and wrapped around Cloud's lower half like a huge, heavy octopus. Cloud laughed and stared blankly at the TV for a while, everything swimming slightly, colors blurring. Eventually he fell asleep too, long after the noise from the late-night city dwellers had faded. He'd have a horrible cramp in his neck, Zack would somehow drool on his stomach and there would be an awkward as hell half-hour in the morning after they realized they'd had a touchy-feely  _moment_  the night before but it was still good, and Cloud didn't regret it.

He had texted Genesis on the way to work (at a red light, of course, because Cloud Strife did not Text And Drive). It was simple, a,  _Hey. You free tonight?_

By the time he pulled into work he had four messages:

_No._

_I can change that though._

_It'll cost you. ;)_

_What time? Where?_

Cloud blinked at his phone and had to put it away, waiting until he was clocked in and had greeted everybody before pulling it out again. After a few minutes of hesitant tapping and then erasing he replied,  _Ummm, okay? Can you be at the waterfront downtown by the pier at six?_ Genesis swiftly responded with an affirmative and Cloud smiled, bemused at the man's eagerness.

That was a good sign. Typical dating advice said it wasn't exactly  _cool_ to show too much excitement too early but Cloud was quickly learning that Genesis didn't really seem to give a fuck about conventional wisdom. He was shockingly genuine, and that Cloud could appreciate.

In a good mood and imagining how his evening would go Cloud putted around the garage happily that day. He got to ride an antique Chopper around the block after fixing its noxious exhaust problem and that was awesome as hell, even if he had to perform a checkup on a lame pastel Prius immediately afterwards.

"What's got you so chipper?" Benny asked him during their lunch break, scarfing down burgers and milkshakes from the place across the street in the back lounge.

"Got a hot date," Cloud answered, barbecue sauce on his lips and his eyebrows wiggling obscenely. Cid made a disgusted sound from over by the microwave and Cloud laughed loudly, delighted.

He tinkered with two more bikes that had to be done by Tuesday and left at four with a last pat to Fenrir, a spring in his step.

"Honey, I'm hooome!" Cloud cried obnoxiously when he arrived at his—his and  _Zack's_ now—apartment. There wasn't an answer and he dithered awkwardly for a minute, checking the rooms for his roommate. Zack wasn't around and Cloud, feeling silly, disappeared into the shower. When he eventually emerged from his bedroom dressed in jeans and a button-up Zack was there, bent over with his head in the fridge.

"Hey," Cloud greeted, and Zack turned around with a hunk of baguette in his mouth and his hands greedily clenched around a bag of lunch meat and a can of soda.

"Hehh," Zack responded, voice distorted due to the food in his mouth.

"Where were you?"

Zack dropped his food on the counter and practically danced the few feet to the island where a thick black folder sat. He opened it and produced a few tiny stacks of paper, one of which he thrust out proudly in Cloud's face. "I was picking up some scripts and stuff. There's going to be a lot of casting calls at the theater by Seventh."

Curiously Cloud took the papers.  _Dan's_ lines were highlighted in yellow—that must've been who Zack was trying for. "Is this, like, a play?"

"Oh, no." Zack looked horrified. "I hate theater, man, and I can't sing. It's just held at the place."

"Oh. Well, cool." He handed it back and Zack tilted his head at him.

"You like nice—you ready for date number two?"

"Yeah," Cloud answered, a bit nervously. He had told his roommate about the last one and its difficulties; he'd gotten some pointers.

"Do you know what you're gonna do?"

"I think so."

Zack clapped him on the shoulder. "Go get 'em, Tiger." He winked and Cloud kicked at him, embarrassed.

His friend was stony-faced and flipping through papers when Cloud left. "Good luck," Cloud murmured, and he got a brief, blinding, sunny grin in response.

"You too!"

The evening air was very warm. It had been hotter during the peak of the day but the sun was just beginning to set, making the sky at the far edge of his vision turn pink. There were few clouds and a soft breeze. Once the sun set the night would be warm and inviting—perfect date weather.

Hah, he was turning into a ridiculous sap!

He was meeting Genesis down by the waterfront. It wasn't too far from where he lived, a twenty minute drive or a few stops on the subway. The Midgar harbor was a happening place (despite being a little bit in the poorer part of town) and along the water's edge were small restaurants, a few fish and food markets as well as food kiosks. There would be a lot to do and see and they could walk around, plus Cloud had a feeling Genesis would enjoy a certain something he was itching to introduce to him (and he didn't mean his dick, but hey, that too).

Cloud jumped up to sit on the railing lining the broad walkway—it wasn't unlike the boardwalk at the beach or something similar, except behind him was dark, murky, polluted water. The breeze off the water made his hair whip into his eyes, and he irritably used his hand to pin it back off his forehead as he self-consciously looked around, hoping Genesis would get the right spot.

A minute or two later he got a phone call.

" _I'm lost_!" Genesis' voice exclaimed. He sounded exasperated and a little bit whiny. Cloud grinned.

"What do you see?"

" _I'm standing by a… is that_ beef jerky _? A huge tower of beef jerky boxes. There's a green trashcan to my left and a homeless man sitting on the ground to my right."_

"Um. Okay, do you see an ice cream place? I'm across from that… sitting on the railing by the water. It sounds like you're at the mart. Follow the path to your right a little bit."

He patiently waited a minute as Genesis presumably walked and looked every which way. It didn't seem like the man had a very good sense of direction (probably a result of having his  _chauffeur_ drive him everywhere, Cloud thought with a snort).

Genesis sighed. " _Can you wave or something? There's so many people_."

Feeling stupid, Cloud sat up straighter, careful to not lose his balance and plunge backwards into the bay, and waved his arm around in the air. Genesis didn't say anything and Cloud continued to wiggle his fingers and jiggle his arm.

"Uh, Genesis? See anything?"

"I see a lot," came an amused voice from his left and Cloud spun quickly, startled. He wobbled and Genesis grabbed his hand and safely pulled him down onto the ground.

"That was mean," Cloud pouted, face warm, and Genesis laughed.

"Sorry to break this to you, but  _I_ am mean," he answered, and his fingers quickly found Cloud's.

"Like I didn't know that already."

"So how are you?" Genesis prompted as Cloud began to lead him by the hand.

Cloud responded dryly, "A little embarrassed, but otherwise great," and he smiled at Genesis' reaction.

The sky was all pinks, oranges and yellows now, and Cloud was sure his hair if it wasn't already would start looking some weird mix of rainbow sherbert; it was so blond that colored light did strange things to it. Genesis' head with the sun glinting off it looked like it was on fire.

They discussed their week as Cloud led them somewhere. Cloud's was much the same as it always was, full of machines and pinched fingers and gruff curses from his boss. Genesis, on the other hand, had flown to Junon on Tuesday and returned the next day to finalize some kind of deal with a producer. Cloud had never been to Junon and Genesis told him it was lovely.

"I hope you're hungry," Cloud said as they approached a tiny shop across from a few small tourist ferries that were tied up by the dock. It was overflowing with people and the line spilled out the front door and a good thirty feet or so outside. Genesis looked alarmed, eyeing the people skeptically.

" _Tseng's_ is famous," Cloud said sagely as they got in line behind an obnoxious family of four—the kids had to be both under six years old and were screaming. "The line's always like this. It's worth it though, you'll see."

Genesis visibly took a deep breath and stood next to Cloud without complaint. Cloud's respect for the man skyrocketed. He was probably used to waiting milliseconds for his meal or to be immediately seated and served (especially if last Friday was any indication) and this had to be incredibly frustrating. He was doing it for Cloud though—he was making an honest, god-damned effort. That was awesome.

"What kind of food is this?" the man asked, and Cloud smiled and deliberately looked away to hide his smile.

"Secret."

"Oh, come on."

"It's not salmon or whatever, so sorry if you were expecting that."

Genesis raised an eyebrow. "No, that's alright." The grimy, busy little shop didn't look like the kind of place to sell salmon and whatever the fuck else had been on his plate last week anyway. Cloud very carefully kept his body between Genesis and the door so the man couldn't easily see what people were walking out with. Quickly Genesis realized what he was doing but didn't try to ruin the surprise, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on Cloud's face and occasionally flicking at the loud little kids at their feet with annoyance.

"Do you know Aerith Gainsborough?" Cloud asked curiously as they slowly inched their way closer to the front door. Around them people were laughing and talking as they went on with their own lives.

"Not personally."

"Oh, okay. I spoke with her yesterday is all. She's cool."

Genesis reached down and threaded his two pointer fingers though belt loops on Cloud's jeans and tugged him forward a little bit. "Should I be worried?" he teased.

"No," Cloud laughed, "I'm totally gay." Genesis chuckled and Cloud gently extracted the other's hands, twining their fingers of both hands together. He wasn't against PDA, not really—hell, he'd had sex in public once as a crazy kinky thing and had almost gotten caught—but there were kids nearby. Heterosexual or homosexual, they didn't need to see that shit at that age.

"What about you?"

"Pansexual."

Cloud nodded, impressed. "Very cool."

"If you say so. My parents didn't seem to agree with you."

That took Cloud aback for a moment—he supposed it was like having a teacher in high school or a professor in college; you forget that they were kids once and had a childhood, parents, things like that. Genesis hadn't always been this successful actor. Huh. Parents.

"That sucks."

Genesis shrugged and changed the subject. "Tell me something about yourself."

"I, uh. I can't swim," Cloud said, saying the first thing that popped into his head.

"So you'd hate it if I did this—?" Genesis pulled on his hand and put an arm around his waist, drawing Cloud close and lifting him a few inches off the ground.

They were a good twenty-five feet from the water's edge and there was no way for Genesis to feasibly get Cloud into the water but still the blond locked up in terror and bellowed, " _No!_ " The redhead let him go, roaring with laughter and Cloud elbowed him in the gut, ducking his head because a dozen startled people were staring.

"I hate you," Cloud hissed. Genesis smirked and Cloud explained that back home the nearby river was frozen solid half the year and when it wasn't frozen it was still way too cold to swim. He'd been twenty when he moved to Midgar and had never felt the urge to learn in an indoor pool or anything like that.

"Well, what about you?"

"Hm. I can't snap my fingers."

"Lame. You seem like the finger-snapping type."

They took turns sharing little facts about themselves, nothing too heavy, as they made their way closer to the door. When they finally made it inside the stuffy place Cloud grinned widely and pointed excitedly over their heads at the menu hanging up tall behind the counter.

"Okay, so the whole point of this place is a play on summon materia, right? You order a summon. They're fucking  _huge_." He pointed at a massive sub sandwich someone was eating at a tiny table in the corner. It was about the same size as the tip of their middle fingers to their elbows and was as thick as Genesis' calf.

"Wow," was all Genesis said.

"You order your sandwich and put all the toppings on yourself." To the side of the counter was a table with bins full of shredded lettuce, onion, sauces and the like. "As much as you want."

Cloud waved happily to the shop's owner, a man named Tseng. Rumor had it he had seen a summon back home (incredibly rare, with only a few occurrences in the past century) in Wutai once and the experience had been so intense he hadn't been able to let it drop. It was a cute little gimmick that attracted customers at the very least.

Genesis was quiet as he studied the menu as they crept closer and closer to the register. Cloud ordered a Shiva, which was a mountain of sliced turkey and ham and Genesis ordered Bahamut, thin sliced steak with an assload of cheese. Cloud ordered onion rings for himself and fries for Genesis, he grabbed two sodas, and then he laughed himself silly watching Genesis deliberate on what toppings to get. Cloud basically emptied out the bin of crisp, sliced red peppers and packed his summon full of enough toppings until it almost didn't shut. Genesis settled for what looked like a little bit of everything.

When they made their way outside the sun was nearly completely set and lights along the water's edge were flickering on. It was just as busy as it had been earlier though, if not busier; Friday night was always a fun time in Midgar.

"This is huge," Genesis marveled as he carried his sandwich down the walkway.

"Yup!" Cloud was already unwrapping his, cradling his drink between his elbow and side. "Tseng's been on the food channel and stuff. He has this special challenge—if you can eat three of these you get your name and picture on the wall."

"I would die," Genesis said flatly. He finished chewing his first bite and said almost reverently, eyes wide, "This is delicious. I'm in love."

"I knew you would be."

There was no specific destination in mind—the waterfront was miles and miles long, a giant crescent shape. They could follow it all the way up to the power plants, go all the way down to the beginning of the hip fashion district, or wander around in the middling region where they were now. There was a lot to see and do, and they wouldn't accomplish it all in a week, let alone an evening. Cloud hoped that this wasn't too lame an excursion but Genesis didn't seem to mind at all.

"Have you been here before?" Cloud asked curiously as they sat on a bench by a few nosy seagulls to get their food down to a manageable, carryable level.

"No." It certainly looked that way; Genesis was being a total tourist in his own city, neck craning as he looked at all the tiny stores. They had their own charm, some selling souvenirs with others sold specialty stuff like freaking thimbles of all things. The smell of different kinds of cooking food in the air was thick and appealing, and Cloud had always loved the sound of creaky boats rocking up and down on the tiny waves of the bay.

"It's nice, isn't it?"

Genesis smiled warmly at him, and he looked radiant in the very last rays of the setting sun. "It is."

As they ate Cloud talked about Nibelheim some more. It really wasn't all that nice a place but Genesis seemed fascinated. In turn Genesis told him some more about Banora. The apples that his hometown was so well-known for were called dumbapples. Cloud thought that was silly.

He told Genesis about Tifa, and in retrospect he probably talked a little too long about her, but she was practically all he had and meant the universe to him; Genesis seemed to appreciate that. He said Tifa sounded hot—Cloud harshly knocked their knees together and wondered in the back of his head when he'd gotten so darn protective over his best friend.

Cloud managed to somehow polish off his whole sandwich but when Genesis offered him the last four inches or so of his own and Cloud had to force down a wave of nausea. "No freaking way," he said thickly, and they stood and threw the wrappers and bags out in a trashcan, then continued on their walk. Stars would start to come out soon, even if it was so smoggy in Midgar that you could only see a fraction of the ones you could see back home.

"You're best friends with Angeal Hewley, right?" Cloud asked, hand firmly in Genesis' again. "How's that?"

Apparently Angeal had grown up very poor, unlike Genesis, who lived in a very nice house on an orchard as a kid. They would sneak out and climb over fences and around cattle to hang out with each other, and more than once Genesis had gotten in terrible trouble for inviting Angeal to climb in his open window and stay the night. They'd moved to Midgar together in their late teens and had started their own careers through some connections of Genesis' parents. Angeal met Sephiroth at some dinner though a friend of a friend and they'd started dating soon after and hadn't been separated since.

Cloud fought down a thrill of excitement at Sephiroth's name and begged Genesis to tell him more about him. Genesis acted affronted but obliged, but not before saying he needed reassurance and making Cloud kiss him silly against the wall of a tiny Wutaian grocery. They were both a bit giggly, extremely full and probably reeked of onions and mysterious meat, but it was good regardless.

"You've gotta admit, he's gorgeous," Cloud said reasonably when Genesis finished spouting all the interesting Sephiroth stories he could think of. It had taken a while to get out because Cloud kept interrupting his words to make out some more and pull him around this way and that; now they were far out in the middle of the harbor having followed a long, thin walkway bridge. There was a tiny station with a light on it out there, probably to alert ships that they were in the harbor now.

The waves were dark and choppier out here than they had been a few hundred feet back where the shops were. The wind whipped around making their hair a mess but any chill they might have felt was effectively withstood with all the cuddling and unsubtle groping they'd been doing.

Genesis pressed up close to Cloud's back, looped his arms around Cloud's waist and spoke into his ear as he looked out at the moon's reflection far out on the water, "Not like you, though." Cloud sucked in a quiet breath as he felt the hot, heavy push of Genesis' half-hard cock against his ass through their jeans; he couldn't resist the urge to rock back on it, grinding his hips and lining them together just so.

A warm kiss was pressed to the spot just below his ear and Cloud tilted his head a little bit with an appreciative hum, eyes narrowing. Genesis' hand slipped up the front of his shirt and Cloud turned around so it slid to his lower back and he returned the favor, fingertips skittering along the top of the waistband of Genesis' underwear.

_Oh man, I am sooo getting laid tonight_ , Cloud thought hazily, but then he was struck with his damned 'think before you speak' affliction. He blurted, clearly not over the fanciful images he'd had of young Genesis and young Angeal and young Sephiroth running around the city, unbidden and unchecked and unsupervised that he'd had less than a minute ago, "What about your parents?"

_'How'd you end up here hooking up with_ me  _right now and living a good decade with your only your friends? Why did the three of you have to rough it so hard? Why did you only have each other?'_ was implied and what Cloud meant to say, and he was actually pretty confident that translated.

Genesis' hand didn't move from his back, though, and Cloud continued to toy with the elastic of Genesis' boxer-briefs but in the long moment it took for the redhead to respond Cloud realized that their fire had been, at least temporarily, doused.

"Dead," Genesis said casually after a moment. "Murdered when I was 18."

Cloud gasped and recoiled, jumping back like Genesis' skin had stung him. "Holy  _shit_!" The older man said nothing and looked unruffled but there was a hint of a frown on his lips that hadn't been there before.

"Wow," Cloud breathed as he moved back, this time grabbing Genesis' hand and squeezing comfortingly, "That…that's horrible. I'm sorry, Genesis."

Tilting his head in thought, Genesis moved to rest his elbows on a new railing, this one metal and stopping the plunge into the bay that was now just a few feet below them. If they had sat down on the floor their toes might have been able to dip into the water.

"It was a while ago," Genesis said dismissively. Cloud stood beside him and they looked out at the horizon. The brightness of the city on either side transitioned into a nothingness directly ahead that seemed to be so great it hurt Cloud's eyes to look at. If it wasn't for the occasional bleeping light of a boat far-off in the distance Cloud would have thought he was looking into a black hole. Some darkness in the world was absolute.

Cloud waited patiently and after a few quiet minutes Genesis spoke again. "I was at Angeal's house when it happened, thankfully. I wasn't supposed to be—I snuck out." He smiled, evidently remembering something humorous with Angeal. "They never found out who did it. Angeal's mom died of an illness a few months later, so we were all we had. So we left, came here." He fell quiet.

"I think," Cloud said hesitantly, "I'm kind of similar. I mean…not as bad as you, but… well, I grew up with just my mom, and then she died a few years ago when I was twenty. Tifa's dad died too, and without anything tying us to Nibelheim we came here too."

Midgar really was the city of people with no ties, with their own issues and big dreams. Genesis told him, among a lot of other things out there on the water, that Sephiroth had run away from home after being physically abused by his father at twelve years old. He'd managed to make his own life here too.

Fucked-up orphans, the whole lot of them. They had wonderfully strong ties to their friends though and knowing people in similar, if not parallel, situations had gotten them this far and would continue to bring them forward. Cloud thought of Zack back home studiously working on his lines, who was lucky enough to have his parents and an optimistic outlook on life that so many cynical people like him had lost, and of Tifa who was probably enjoying herself at her bar right now, talking with her few employees and her regulars. Genesis seemed to feel the same way about Angeal and Sephiroth that he felt about them.

They eventually moved back towards town and strolled back, hand in hand. They split apart with a long, lingering kiss and a hug that was most definitely not cheesy and desperate. It was obvious that it had been good for Genesis to talk about all of that. They went their separate ways and went home in good, if slightly sober, spirits. Yeah, they didn't have sex that night or anything of the sort and it hadn't exactly been the ending either of them had anticipated but Cloud now knew that, despite Genesis being rich and fancy and used by now to an entirely different lifestyle, deep down they weren't all that different after all.

That was even better.


	8. Chapter 7

There was a poster in the waiting room of a person's tonsils, nose cavity and esophagus and it was grossing Cloud the fuck out. There had been something similar in the office of his pediatrician back home in Nibelheim, and it had made him cry as a seven year old.

Diseases and illness in general creeped him out. Not for the first time the blond was glad that he didn't remember his accident; he'd be cringing for the rest of his life about it, hands down. Cloud kept his eyes studiously away from it as he waited for his name to be called, fiddling with his phone.

He took a discreet picture of a young lady sitting across from him who was talking like she had one of those holes drilled into your throat from smoking too much and sent it to Zack. After a minute his roommate replied with  _9/10 would bang_. Cloud laughed loudly and got a glare from a man sitting to his right that looked seconds from death.

"Cloud Strife?"

"Hey, Doctor Gast," Cloud greeted as he stood, depositing the magazine he'd been half-reading for the past twenty-five minutes.

"Hi, son. Ready to get that off?" He eyed Cloud's boot.

" _Absolutely_."

Half an hour later Cloud was sauntering out of the doctor's office on both feet. He felt, truly, like a million Gil; god, he had forgotten how wonderful it was to do something as simple as wiggle your ankle, have your toes flex at the joints—to feel an actual freaking sock and snug sneaker and not the scratchy, itchy-ass bandages!

_I'm having a foot orgasm_ , he texted Genesis. Not even the sight of his temp car could ruin his mood because he still got to feel the texture of the gravel on the pavement of the parking lot through the sole of his sneaker he'd happily carried in with him earlier, and,  _wow_ —free at last!

_Sexy,_ Genesis replied.  _Everything go well?_

_Yeah, thanks._

As Cloud drove home he cranked up the radio and sang, joyous. It had been almost two months since their second date and finally enough time had passed so that Cloud was fully healed. Gast had told him he might have some residual stiffness in his ankle for a while but other than that he was right as rain. It felt  _great_.

Things were great in general, actually. He and Zack were better than ever. The whole roommate thing was working out splendidly. Only having to pay half the cost of rent was doing wonders for his budget; it wasn't nearly as difficult to meet the installments for his hospital bills, although later this week Cloud had some more due, plus the cost of the boot removal and final check-up performed by Doctor Gast just now that was stressing him out. Rather than being overwhelming, it was instead 'incredibly difficult.' Zack kept his spirits up though and kept him determined too.

Zack hadn't been having the greatest luck with his own pursuits, but he hadn't lost his fire yet. He religiously searched the paper and the internet for casting calls and requests for people like him; he'd gone to audition after audition but so far the fish weren't biting. He was confident that he'd get there though. In fact in just a few days Zack had his biggest audition yet—he'd been preparing for this one for weeks and was nervous as hell. Cloud was happy for him.

Tifa was doing awesome as well; she'd had a date or two of her own and Cloud had wholeheartedly encouraged her and then confessed he secretly hated the douchebags when they turned out to be, well, douchebags. Tifa was strong though and he didn't worry too much about her.

Genesis, though, was his own confusing issue. Their relationship was odd.

They'd gone on a few more dates and met for coffee occasionally to chat about their day or week, but Cloud didn't exactly know where they stood. It was all very on the down-low anyway, with Genesis being a celebrity and all.

He had no idea if they were steady or not—they'd made out a few times and he'd given Genesis a handjob in the backseat of his shitty temporary car but that was pretty much it. At any rate now Cloud had a 'light-flirting-but-no-touching' rule at  _Seventh Heaven_  that had been serving him well thus far.

Being Genesis'  _boyfriend_ had seemed utterly impossible to him before their first date; hell, he'd practically hated the guy. Genesis was a lot deeper than he seemed though and Cloud liked to think they were making very good progress on the  _friend_ part of their relationship so that they could progress with the rest of it.

What they had going right now was serving him pretty well, actually. He was cool with it and Genesis seemed cool with it and there wasn't any pressure to step up into actual exclusivity. Genesis could be totally fucking all kinds of people and Cloud wouldn't know and although the idea rankled him a little bit he didn't freak. Possessiveness at this stage was creepy and unneeded.

Cloud hadn't been in a lot of relationships. Maybe, what, three? He'd slept with a lot more guys than three and although the thought of  _dating_ Genesis was a little terrifying he wouldn't say no if it came up; he really, really liked the actor.

Genesis was surprisingly vulnerable deep down and had a lot of insecurities. He was honest and didn't hide anything which was surprising; Cloud had, honestly, been expecting a lot of snarkiness, secrets and a holier-than-thou attitude. That was not the case. Genesis was rich and cut from diamond, not rough-hewn mountain rock like Cloud and he knew it. His obsession with poetry and the opera said a lot but deep down he was still a lonely country boy and Cloud could certainly work with that.

A month ago Cloud had finally confessed, stressed to hell and back with work, about his hospital bills and financial troubles and Genesis hadn't pitied him or said some bullshit; he shrugged it off and let Cloud have the space he needed to sort it all out. Grateful hadn't even been close to describing what Cloud felt; that had been one of the last barriers between full disclosure and comfort between them. He had been afraid that Genesis would look down on him and would finally realize that he was too good for a dirty mechanic like Cloud, but it hadn't happened.

Actually, Genesis didn't really seem to give a fuck—and about a lot more than just Cloud's social location. The man was incredibly secure in himself and didn't need rich or famous people around him to validate that.

For a moment Cloud had been worried Genesis would offer to pay Cloud's rent or give financial assistance, but he hadn't done that either. That was his greatest fear—he didn't need Genesis' pity or help. He was  _extremely_  touchy about the subject and so far he hadn't made an ass of himself.

It was good. It was all good. Something clearly had to go wrong soon, Tifa had said. Whatever, Cloud had replied.

Before getting any closer to Genesis, though, Cloud wanted to get Zack's opinion. After all, they were roommates now, and more importantly the dude's thoughts mattered a lot to him. If Cloud started dating Genesis the redhead might be around a lot more, encroaching on Zack's space and all. Gaia forbid but he might accidentally walk in on them naked or worse and he'd have to put up with Cloud griping about fights or whatever. If dating a celebrity made Zack awkward or things difficult, well… then he'd seriously reconsider that relationship.

The blond had been meaning to bring it up once he got back from the doctor's but this afternoon, just like every other day for the past two weeks, Zack was hunched over a stack of papers in the living room and muttering to himself. Cloud didn't want to bother him.

"How you doin'?" Cloud asked, walking barefoot (and it was great!) behind the couch where Zack was sitting. He reached out and kneaded the man's shoulders which were tight and hard with tension.

He got a short, grateful smile. "Good. Thanks, buddy."

"No problem." Cloud managed to microwave them something to eat for dinner and they ate in peaceful silence, Cloud watching his toes and foot wiggle merrily and Zack muttering about lost love and betrayal.

* * *

"I hate you," Cloud grunted as Cid's back disappeared around the corner. His boss was a miserable asshole and that's why he was stuck on desk duty again—and the first day he had full foot mobility, too! It was all terribly unfair.

Fenrir was coming along fantastically. He wasn't too far from fully restored, and Cloud couldn't wait to ride him again. He couldn't see his beloved bike from his spot at the counter but he could almost  _feel_ the bike's presence, like he was a magnet tuned into Fenrir exclusively. Totally tragic.

"Mmhmm… sounds like you should bring it in Mr. Wallace," Cloud said a few hours later as he scribbled away on a piece of paper. "Might be nothing, might be something. At the very least Cid'll do it for free after what he did last time."

"He better!" Barrett said, sounding angry, and Cloud laughed. Barrett was probably Cid's best friend, despite their routine explosive arguments every few months or so. Barrett's car was making weird noises.

"Yup. See you soon." He hung up and rolled the chair backwards so he could file it and enter something into the computer. When finished he turned around and yelped—Genesis Rhapsodos had just his head in the doorway and upon getting Cloud's attention slid all the way inside, swiftly striding over.

"Hello," he said, and promptly planted the surprised blond a gigantic smooch on the mouth. Cloud, quick to get with the program, roughly tugged Genesis closer by the collar of his t-shirt. He pulled so Genesis was half-sprawled over the tall counter on his chest, feet leaving the floor.

"Strife!"

They sprang apart like teenagers caught necking on the front porch. Cid was there by the entrance to the bay and the stick that he chewed on because he'd kill them all if he smoked near engines had fallen to the ground. "No molesting the customers, ya fuckin' idiot!"

"He molested me first," Cloud said bashfully. He could tell Cid wasn't really mad, but Cid still kicked Genesis out after he figured out that the redhead didn't have any accompanying car or vehicle that needed to be serviced. He took over the desk and Cloud guiltily slipped outside, following Genesis to the street where the car Genesis was driven around in, a nondescript black thing, was waiting. His driver Kunsel was probably impatiently waiting in the driver's seat.

Genesis slid into the car and rolled the window all the way down. Casually standing on the sidewalk, Cloud leant just beneath his elbows on the base of the window, half of his arms in the air-conditioned body of the car, the sun warm on the back of his neck and making his shirt cling sweatily to his skin. There was a barrier up between the back seat and the driver's but that was a good thing, as Cloud wasn't crazy fond of Kunsel.

"Thanks for visiting," he crooned with a smile, "too bad Cid kicked you out."

The redhead, who looked unbelievably pampered lounging in his car with its small bar compartment up near the ceiling, waved it off. "I was wondering," he murmured, looking at his phone instead of his face which was always a sign, "if you wanted to come over for dinner tomorrow night?"

Cloud's brows furrowed as the other man's blue-green gaze met his evenly.  _Dinner_ was clearly a lot more than just dinner; they hadn't seen each other's homes yet and that was always a pretty big step in any relationship. The other implications behind  _dinner_ were heavy. It took Cloud a moment to answer as he was reading Genesis' face to make sure he hadn't misunderstood but he eventually said quietly, "Yeah, sure. That sounds good."

Nodding, Genesis said, "Great. I'll text you a time and my address sometime tomorrow."

"Okay." Cloud could tell he was starting to blush and dug his nails into his palms to help him get a grip. Genesis smirked at him like he knew what Cloud was thinking.

"Relax," he soothed, then stuck his head out of the car, lips puckered.

Laughing softly Cloud bent and kissed him, lingering and sweet, the promise of  _tomorrow_ making him needy and selfish. He cupped Genesis' cheek and stroked his cheekbone with his thumb, unwittingly leaving a tiny, faint smudge of oil or grease on the celebrity's skin.

"See ya," Cloud murmured and Genesis smiled blindingly at him before retreating and pressing the button to roll up the window and forcing Cloud to extract his arms or risk getting them painfully pinned. He waved and the car took off into the haze of the summer heat. He watched it go, lifted up the edge of his shirt to wipe at his forehead and temples, then went back inside.

Rather than yelling obnoxiously like he usually did when he got home he was quiet, toeing off his boots and placing his wallet and keys on the counter by the fridge. Zack was at his usual spot, feet propped up on the footrest, coffee table littered with papers. His music played softly from his laptop on the floor nearby.

"Hey," Cloud said softly, not wanting to startle him or distract him more than he had to, but this conversation had to happen, especially now that it seemed he and Genesis were finally going to take things to the next level.

Zack didn't look up from the script he was highlighting. "Hey, kiddo," he said kindly.

Hesitantly Cloud moved farther into the room and perched on the armchair they had perpendicular to the couch. There wasn't any room for his feet on the coffee table so he kept them down, fiddling with his fingers.

"I don't mean to bug you, I know you're busy," he began. "This'll be quick. It's just that I'm going over Genesis' place for dinner tomorrow night and I wanted to check that you were cool with it.

"Us, as a, y'know, a thing," he clarified after Zack stared at him wordlessly over his reading glasses for a moment.

A bright, handsome grin overtook his friend's face and Zack reached for his phone. "Of course I'm 'cool with it,' duh," he murmured distractedly as he tapped away, "but it doesn't  _really_ matter anyway…"

"What d'you mean?" Cloud asked, frowning. "Of course it does."

Zack tossed him his phone and Cloud clumsily caught it, peering at the screen. His jaw dropped and Zack laughed loudly.

It was some celebrity blog website—he noticed Zack had it bookmarked—and on the home page was a picture of him kissing Genesis outside at the car earlier that afternoon. Genesis' head was sticking out of the window like a silly-looking giraffe and Cloud was visibly smiling as he locked lips with the redhead. He was visibly sweaty, big, fat drops running down the back of his neck in the sun and making his shirt look disgusting.

_WHO IS RHAPSODOS'S NEW BEAU?_ was the headline in thick bold font above the photo, which was captioned, " _Photo by Yuffie Kisaragi_." There were a couple hundred comments.

"Oh fuck," Cloud said faintly.

"For what it's worth," Zack soothed, "I ship you guys."

"…You what?"

Zack just rolled his eyes. "You're so uneducated about the biz, man. Gimme my phone."

He handed it back, feeling vaguely sick and promising to deal with it later, and after an exhaustion-fueled brief power nap returned to help Zack memorize his lines. It was for a movie titled  _The Northern Crater_  that was apparently supposed to be pretty haunting in a sad way. The main character wakes up in the Crater without his memories and discovers an evil plot and reconnects with old love, but anything more than that he didn't know because Zack only had a portion of the script and a loose summary.

"How do you feel about this?" Cloud asked, feeling foolish as he did the lines for both the Female Lead and some random third character that was in the scene. His acting was incredibly shitty compared to Zack's; he was surprised to find that the man was as good as he was. Maybe there was hope for the guy after all.

"Nervous," Zack confessed, and went into the character's teary monologue that was the centerpiece of the audition. His nervousness was obvious so Cloud was quietly encouraging and helped him go through his lines for hours till he was pretty sure he could have given a pretty good audition himself as he knew practically all of the lines.

They ran the lines until they were both sick to death of them. Around eleven Cloud grabbed his keys and said he was going to visit Tifa. Zack was still bent over the script and muttering to himself when he left and, a bit overwhelmed, Cloud ran his hands through his hair once he got outside.

The acting life was clearly not for him. Sometimes he wished that he had thousands of screaming, frothed-at-the-mouth fans but usually he got over that in a few milliseconds. Nope, that wasn't really his gig.

But who knew? Maybe he had a few fans already from that paparazzi photo of him kissing Genesis.

With a roll of his eyes Cloud strolled down the street the few blocks it took to get to  _Seventh Heaven_. During the winter it sucked because most of the time the snow plow drivers didn't care enough to get these lesser-used roads or would half-assedly get it and you'd have to climb over an eight foot pile of snow all crammed onto the sidewalk. In summer though it was a nice evening walk, even if there was trash and refuse rotting in the heat out on the pavement.

You got used to it. It was amazing how many things people could get used to if they had to.

_Seventh Heaven_ was full of the late after-dinner crowd; he squeezed by a few people, some he recognized and some he didn't, and put his elbows on the bartop as he leaned forward cheekily at Tifa, who was busy serving someone with her back to him.

"Hey," he said loud enough for her to hear, "I'm new in town, and I don't want to offend any locals by ordering the wrong brew. How 'bout you teach me how things work in Midgar…in private?" He pulled a ridiculous face and wiggled his eyebrows but Tifa didn't even turn around; she swung her arm out behind her back and gave him the finger.

Cloud reached out, hoisting his chest over the counter for a second, and snatched her hand. He pulled her smoothly backwards, she turned with an affectionately exasperated look on her face, and he gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Yeah, hi," she said. "Be with you in a minute, alright?"

"Okay," Cloud said peacefully, finding a stool. No one else batted much of an eye at the entire exchange—they were used to the pair's actions. It felt like every other week some newcomer would ask if they were married, which used to be embarrassing but now was just kind of funny.

He was in the middle of trying not to make eyes at this hot guy on the other side of the bar (and failing, quite frankly) when Tifa pointed one of her employees, a girl named Jessica, to man the bar while she plopped down next to Cloud and spoke with him.

"What's up?" she asked, and slid a tall glass of something that looked fruity into his palm.

After pausing to sample the drink and send an approving smile her way, Cloud murmured, smacking his lips, "The usual stuff I guess."

"Uh huh."

"…Alright, no," Cloud confessed, because Tifa was giving that  _I'm-totally-not-believing-you-look_ that she was so good at. "I saw Genesis today. He wants me to go over his place tomorrow and have dinner."

Tifa grinned and punched his shoulder (and as usual, it hurt way more than it needed to).

"That's great, Cloud!"

"Ow."

"Don't be a baby. How do you feel about it?"

"Good," Cloud said, and a smile played at his mouth. "Yeah. I'm excited. It'll be good. Still… I'm a little nervous."

"Why?" Tifa nudged at him to drink up and Cloud pursed his lips at her, knowing she was trying to get him loose enough to talk about his issues or whatever. Regardless he took a long drag and muscled through the burn of the rum she'd added.

"What is this, peach?"

"Yeah. No changing the subject. Nervous about what?"

"I don't know… the money thing, I guess." Tifa would be able to understand where he was coming from. "He's been good about it so far, but it worries me sometimes. What if, like," he waved his arms around, careful not to spill, "he suddenly realizes I'm shit? Or that he's better off with a celebrity? And what if he doesn't get it and tries to offer me money for the bills and stuff? He's not my sugar daddy, Tifa."

Tifa punched him again, and this time it  _really_ hurt.

"Ow!" he cried, grabbing his shoulder.

"Don't let me hear you call yourself 'shit' again," she warned, then took a calming sip of her own drink, the same as Cloud's. "One, if he dumps you because of the money thing, it means he's an asshole and you were too good for him in the first place. Two, do you really think he would?"

For certain people like Tifa and Cloud having someone take  _pity_ on them was just as bad as not being able to pay your electric bill or feed yourself three meals a day that month. There was a certain amount of pride that came with working hard for your own survival, especially in a town like this where they were surrounded by so many who had so much. It could take less than a second for a Sephiroth or a Genesis to carelessly pay off their rent or whatever, but would they take it?

Some would, and there's nothing wrong with that. Tifa and Cloud wouldn't, though, and that's just how they were. Sometimes this self-sufficiency was literally all they had.

What would they be without that, then? What would be the point of their job, of existing, of anything?

"No," Cloud muttered, "I guess not. He hasn't yet. I think he knows it's important I do this myself."

Tifa shrugged. "Then that's that. And I mean it about him dumping you. From what I know of the guy he seems actually into you and it's been a few months now. You'll be fine."

"…Thanks, Tifa."

"What about Zack? His audition is tomorrow, right?"

For a while Cloud did his best to properly convey Zack's miraculous acting talent and he talked about how long they had practiced. Tifa seemed excited. She quite honestly liked the guy as much as Cloud did and wanted him to do well.

"Do you think he'll make it tomorrow?"

"Honestly?" Cloud frowned for a moment. "I do. He's got it."

* * *

It was a strange parody of 1950s suburban life. Cloud fussed with the collar of Zack's shirt, making sure it was properly tucked under the neck of his sweater, as Zack rolled up the newspaper and held it loosely in one hand.

"You ready?" Cloud pressed, tugging harshly at Zack's clothes.

"Think so," Zack replied. He looked kind of ill.

"Hey." Cloud smiled as encouragingly as he could and stepped back to press a lunch bag of sandwiches and snacks it had taken the both of them an embarrassingly long time to put together into his roommate's free hand. "You're going to do great."

Zack smiled wobbily back at him and fussed with his hair. "You look fine," Cloud groused, and ushered him towards the door. Since he was playing the housewife sending her husband away to work at the factory or whatever he tried to stand on his tiptoes and give Zack a goodbye kiss, but he was hastily slapped away.

"I hate you," Zack pouted, face heating up, but he laughed and that had been Cloud's goal all along.

"Yeah, yeah. I've got to go to work, so get lost, you're distracting me."

"Bye!"

"Bye, Zack."

The door shut behind the dark-haired man and Cloud let out all the nervous breath he'd been unwilling to show his friend. His fingers were shaking a little. Gaia, he was anxious and he wasn't even the one auditioning.

There was an event in his own future, though of a different kind—thinking about that made him feel a little nauseous as well. It would be an eventful day, that was for sure.

Cloud sent a quick prayer to the planet for Zack's success, then trooped off to the garage.


	9. Chapter 8

"I'm going to quit!"

"No you won't."

"I might."

His threat rolled off Cid's shoulders like it was nothing. "No you won't."

Cloud was contemplating suicide or, at the very least, plugging his ears full of antifreeze so he'd go deaf and wouldn't have to listen to his fellow employees' ribbing about his sweaty ass plastered on the front of celebrity gossip sites macking with Genesis Rhapsodos.

He had his knees pulled up defensively, feet wedged onto the chair he was sitting on in the lounge at work, scarfing down a wrap he'd gotten a block or two away as fast as he could so he could go back to working on a bike and away from everyone else.

"Look at this comment," Matt, a young kid who dropped out of high school, said delightedly as he held up his phone, "'He's really cute, whoever he is! I've always had a fetish for filthy manly men.'"

"Nooo," Cloud groaned, letting his forehead thunk against his knees as he hid his face.

"And this one, from  _xoxoGenesisFan_ , 'I don't know about you guys, but look at that  _hair_! Who has hair like that these days? He looks like a delinquent. Genesis could do so much better.'"

Screw the lunch; Cloud stood very quickly, tossed his food in the trash and retreated back to the antique chopper he'd been restoring, the laughter of his workplace buddies echoing and following him out into the bay.

They lightened up a little after that but periodic giggling still rang through the room occasionally as the morning went on, soon transitioning into afternoon.

Around one a voice he didn't immediately recognize said, "Cloud?" He stood up from his crouch by the frame of the bike, knees protesting the movement, to see Terra Branford sticking her head in from the lobby area.

She hurried over, heels clicking loudly in the large space.

"Hey," he greeted, a little confused. Terra was a regular enough customer—she was a singer on broadway or something.

"I just wanted to warn you," she said, glancing out the front windows of  _Highwind Auto_ and effectively making Cloud paranoid as hell, "you've got Yuffie Kisaragi hidden across the street. I saw her on my way in."

Cloud grimaced, his stomach dropping like he was on a roller coaster. "Yuffie Kisaragi?"

"Paparazzi," she said. "She's the best, and I only noticed because I figured after yesterday someone would be nearby and looked before I came inside. Be careful, okay?"

Sighing miserably, the mechanic nodded. "Will do. Thanks for the warning."

"Not a problem. Scanning for the pap becomes second nature, you know." She smiled, pretty blond curls falling across her face, then turned and returned to the front desk where Cid was waiting impatiently.

Paparazzi, huh? Him? Who would've thought.

An hour or so later he got a text from Genesis, an address and instructions on what to say to the security on the ground floor to get him up. It also said, ' _7pm. Come hungry! ;)_ '

While trying not to blush like a schoolgirl Cloud thanked him and asked how he was doing. They chatted back and forth for a few and then Cloud busied himself in the bike again. Time flew fast after that and as he left at four he texted Zack to see how he was holding up.

Zack hadn't gone yet, apparently, and had been sitting in the same packed waiting room for hours.

_How were the sandwiches?_

_Delicious!_

_Haha, great. Good luck!_

_Thanks, bro._

He was in a good mood as he left. He made sure to at least fix his hair as he left and make an effort to not look like he was a walking ad for Pennzoil. He kept his head down nonetheless, walking weirdly and self-consciously as there was apparently some freak waiting for him. Where exactly he wasn't sure, and nothing looked out of place in the usual cityscape outside his place of employment, but hey, he'd take Terra's word for it.

At home he watched some calming television for a little while, showered, and took extra care to spray himself all over with body spray (even down his pants).

A pep-talk was in order so he called Tifa, who was freaking nocturnal due to the bar and who had probably only been awake a few hours. She successfully boosted his ego and, in better spirits, he tucked two condoms and a few packets of lube into his wallet just in case, whistling merrily as he strolled out of the apartment. Still nothing from Zack.

He took the train, not wanting to drive across the entire city in the horrible post-work/dinner traffic. Midgar's train was constantly being renovated and he had to wait an irritatingly long time at the stop closest to his apartment building due to single-tracking but soon he was on his way.

There was a presumably homeless man sitting close to his seat, nodding off against the window, precious possessions in a shopping cart he had managed to lug all the way underground. It struck Cloud as interesting and quite a bit sad how he was headed to a rich man's condo.

Nerves threatened to overtake him again but he forced it all down. He hadn't been this worked up over a date in years. Heck, he didn't  _do_ nervous dates. And yet.

Genesis' building was huge. It reeked of money from the valets outside the door to the automatic doors that didn't squeak to the grumpy man at a front desk downstairs that demanded Cloud show him proper identification.

Stammering a little, Cloud pulled out his phone and read from Genesis' text sent earlier that day, "Uhhhh, 'when the war of the beasts brings about the world's end, the goddess descends from the sky, wings of light and dark spread afar, she guides us to bliss, her gift everlasting'…?"

Looking unimpressed, the man let him proceed. "14th floor, right side," he said, and Cloud nodded meekly.

The secret code thing was weird, but maybe celebrities were too busy to always confirm or buzz up every visitor. It seemed like a security risk to him though, he mused as he rode the elevator up, but hey—maybe only a select few had Genesis' secret code, whatever the hell poem it was. He suddenly felt very privileged and quite a bit happy.

There were only two apartments on the entire floor, Cloud realized as he got off on the fourteenth floor. Two! It was actually the thirteenth, but the building must have been one of those superstitious ones that didn't dare put a 13 anywhere.

Heart in his throat, he knocked.

After a minute Genesis opened the door with a grin. He looked beautiful, he always did, especially so today in jeans, socks, and a v-necked sweater that showed off his collarbone and the toned muscles of his arms. The red of his hair, blue-green of his eyes, and subtle blush of pink on his cheeks from pleasure always cheered Cloud up immensely. The man kissed him right in the doorway, a hand finding Cloud's.

"You're late," he murmured against Cloud's mouth.

"What-?" Distressed, Cloud checked his phone—two minutes past seven. "Hey…"

"I'm teasing," Genesis said with a wink. "Come on in."

After taking off his shoes and tucking them by the doorway Cloud turned his head left and right as he took in the place. It probably wasn't exactly polite but Genesis had everything decorated nicely, not gaudy at all like he had feared, and you couldn't exactly blame him. Smooth, modern lines, splashes of red here and there, and paintings of wide, open spaces and expansive fields of grass and prairie were in every room.

It was all expensive though, and next to this man Cloud, in his plain black t-shirt and jeans with the hole in the one knee, felt under-dressed and outclassed like usually did.

Genesis took his hand and brought him into the kitchen though, smiling earnestly, and those fears melted away.

"That smells good."

"I'd hope so. Here." He handed him a knife and a bowl of strange purple-colored fruit to give him something to do. After cubing them Genesis added the lot to a crock pot of merrily bubbling stew.

"Banoran recipe," Genesis said cryptically.

Somehow it wasn't awkward. For all his alienness Cloud seemed to fit into Genesis' space quite easily. They moved around the kitchen neatly and Cloud hopped onto the counter, feeling like a little kid as he swung his feet and listened to Genesis tell him about his day.

He'd met with Sephiroth and Angeal for lunch (he gently smacked Cloud with a spoon for the stupid expression he got on his face when Sephiroth's name was mentioned) and then traveled to the set for  _MHS_  where he shot a brief scene.

Cloud slipped and asked what was up with the PTSD ex-marine who'd gone missing in the woods at the end of last week's aired episode and Genesis' neck swiveled so fast it looked like a blur.

"You  _watch_ it?" he said, sounding delighted.

Flushing angrily, Cloud shook his head. "No. Well, yeah, kinda."

When Genesis' smug look got smugger Cloud twisted his mouth and confessed, "Okay. Zack and I kinda watched all—well not  _all-_ "(though it was indeed all) "-but  _most of_ —the stuff you're in."

"For research!" he protested loudly to no one a second later, ears burning.

Genesis cupped his face and kissed him silly for so long he almost burnt the stew.

They migrated to the island eventually, dinner miraculously saved (and this island was significantly nicer than Cloud's; it had stainless steel drawers and nice, comfortable stools and everything). There was a dining room but this was more intimate and they could sit here with their legs hooked around each other's, Genesis' long feet tapping out some musical beat against Cloud's calves.

The stew was delicious, of course, with potatoes, vegetables, fruit, and warm chunks of meat Cloud probably didn't want to know. (He heard rich people ate chocobo sometimes.  _Chocobo!_ ) Genesis had warm rolls with butter that Cloud ended mopping his gravy up with, flushing when caught in the act.

They ate until they were both stuffed, Cloud feeling a bit bad because he'd had an entire third helping as Genesis poured them both wine.

Genesis stood to put the bowls in the sink and Cloud, seizing the opportunity, gently nudged him back against the counter by the sink, pinning the older man to it by his hips. He smiled, blond bangs falling into his eyes and held his wine glass to Genesis's lips. It was clean and without scratch marks, flawless; Genesis' breath partially fogged it up and his lower lip pressed and spread underneath the pressure of the glass, a delicious pink to compliment the rose-colored wine.

"I'm checking to make sure you didn't poison it," he murmured in defense, eyes sparkling with mischief.

Genesis caught his gaze and held it unblinkingly as Cloud tipped the glass. The man's Adam's apple bobbed attractively as he swallowed, and, fuck—everything about that man was attractive. It shouldn't have been nearly as hot as it was.

Quickly Cloud removed the glass and replaced it with his own mouth, easing up on the pressure he was putting on the older man. Genesis seemingly didn't have a problem with his position though and tugged Cloud closer with both of his hands cupping Cloud's face. Naturally and without thought Cloud's hands drifted to Genesis' waist and soon the celebrity's one hand fell to Cloud's shoulder as the other tangled in his bright, messy hair.

For a time the only sound in the kitchen was the ticking of an antique clock Genesis had by the microwave, soft, gentle breathing and the sound of mouths coming together again and again, and it was peaceful. No rush, no threat of getting caught by people with cameras or the pressure of a work shift or doctor's appointment in an hour's time.

It was something Cloud could sure get used to.

Eventually the fingers in Cloud's hair twisted and tugged a bit, getting the blond's attention. Genesis met Cloud's gaze, a question in his eyes, and Cloud nodded in response.

Then they're kissing again, but this time with bruising force. Genesis licked his way into Cloud's mouth using his height to loom and make Cloud crane his head back, an arm pressed tight against the blond's lower back and pressing their bellies together.

A quiet laugh escaped Cloud and he abandoned Genesis' mouth, ignoring how tempting his lips looked all swollen and kiss-bitten, and he moved to Genesis' ear instead as the man slouched again and stopped trying to impress his height—or Cloud's relative lack of it—upon him.

There was a pulse fluttering at the sensitive spot behind his ear and Cloud sucked delicately at it, getting a groan and strong fingers digging into his shoulders for his trouble.

Encouraged and determined, Cloud's mouth trailed down Genesis' neck and he licked and nipped with great attention to the man in his arms. Genesis would sigh a certain way, higher-pitched here and breathier there and he paid extra attention to those spots without even realizing what his hands were doing as they skimmed the man's sides and felt out the warm muscle underneath his sweater.

He fucking worked that celebrity over, until Genesis was flushed and groaning Cloud's name on every half-hitched breath; until his fingers knotted in Cloud's hair and  _pulled_ because he wanted Cloud to abandon his effort and kiss him but he didn't; until he half-forgot his original goal and Cloud's kisses sloppily trailed off in a random direction (but still someplace warm, soft and  _Genesis_ , for sure). He desperately pressed the hardness in his jeans against Genesis' hip and Genesis said, chuckling, "Down, big boy."

"Uh." Cloud pulled back, a little hazy. Genesis' sweater was all twisted and what looked like some truly  _spectacular_ hickies were forming on the pale flesh of his neck. He moved forward again, entranced. Genesis laughed at him, soft and gentle, and Cloud pouted nonetheless.

"Big boy, huh?"

"Maybe not so big, on second thought," Genesis said with a straight face—actors! Cloud's lip jutted out in defiance.

He scooted forward until he was standing between Genesis' spread legs, then bent his knees and slid his hands under the man's thighs. He straightened up, and as he did so Genesis' feet left the ground.

"Yes," Genesis said dryly as his arms wrapped around Cloud's neck, "You're a strong, manly mechanic. I know." He didn't seem alarmed or worried that the smaller male was carrying him and Cloud, through a lot of laughter and bitching about how heavy Genesis was (and getting a painful tug on his hair for it), unsteadily carried the man into the other room.

They tumbled onto Genesis' couch, a wide, plush leather thing. Cloud sprawled out with a sigh, his muscles trembling a little from the trek over, but he considered it worth it for the tiny impressed look Genesis had shot him, like he hadn't thought he'd be able to do it.

The redhead straddled Cloud's lap and haphazardly knocked away the artistic throw pillows that now let Cloud stretch his socked feet out fully. This was the kind of couch for napping, for curling up with a blanket and watching television on, not for any kind of actual work like his and Zack's back home.

Genesis curled over his chest and kissed him then and Cloud tugged him down closer and clung on tight with his knees, thighs, arms—anything, anything would work, as long as more of Genesis' skin was on his and his weight sunk into Cloud's body, trapping him in a place that, frankly, he hadn't ever thought he'd be.

They lost themselves in the slide of tongues and warm, exploratory fingers for a while, and then Genesis rolled his hips down into Cloud's. The blond's breath left him in a broken gasp—he'd almost forgotten how turned on he was, focused so on his companion as he had been.

Genesis did it again and Cloud cupped that beautiful face in his hands, smoothing his thumbs across a regal cheekbone. Genesis' lashes—and they were red as well, how cute (striking too, against the brightness of his eyes)—were low as the man studied the places where their bodies met, like where his own bony elbow was jabbing into Cloud's side. The younger man didn't even mind.

Cloud's hips stuttered as Genesis put all his lower weight on Cloud (not that he couldn't take it) and fucked his hips down in a smooth motion.

"Hold on," Cloud gasped out, grabbing Genesis' waist and holding him in place.

The man stilled immediately and Cloud squirmed. "Keys. They're stabbing me in the ass, just a second."

The man's laughter was loud and echoed in the big apartment that actually seemed a little lonely. Cloud felt himself smiling too and pushed his torso up to kiss the redhead breathless as he managed to get a hand underneath himself, tossing his wallet and keys to the floor beside them.

While he was down there he flicked open the button on his jeans and had managed to push them down to just above his knees when Genesis had had enough and was on him again, hands questing and insistent. They ran up his chest and down the softer skin of his sides, then skittered across his ribcage.

"Gen," Cloud croaked a few minutes later, mouth slack and lips spitty. He looked down; he wasn't sure when Genesis had shoved his jeans down to his ankles, but he had.

They were both still in their underwear—and Cloud had had  _plans_ for this, the first real time.

Messily dry-humping on the couch like freaking  _kids_ hadn't exactly been what he thought would happen, but he could see a small, dark mark from precome staining the front of Genesis' boxer-briefs and he could clearly see the outline of his cock straining against the thin fabric and, hey, he figured he could get behind it.

Freaking  _anything_ would be hot as long as Genesis was involved, as far as he was concerned.

Genesis' low moans got stronger and Cloud encouraged it as he actively participated, managing to free one leg from his jeans and wrap it around Genesis' waist, settling them at an angle that lined everything up just right. The muscles in his stomach and thighs bunched up tellingly, overwhelmingly so, and he shot Genesis a panicked look.

The man's fingers twined with his and he gently pressed one of Cloud's hands down into the cushion of the couch by his head. "We have all night," he murmured through panting breaths, and his thumb stroked soothingly across Cloud's knuckles, tender in contrast to the harsh, controlled way he was working his hips and dick down into Cloud's, quick and fast over and over again. "Go ahead."

And Cloud did.

His head dug back into the seat and his free hand tightened its grip  _somewhere_  on Genesis' body, he wasn't even sure where anymore, as orgasm finally ripped through him. He bit his lip and silently shook through it, suddenly hating the fact that their legs were all tangled and he couldn't move because he  _wanted_ to, and he tried anyway. Genesis, on the other hand, let out a sound that for sure bounced off a wall or two and rode the wave of their motion hard until they were both trembling, sore and too sensitive to continue.

"Gross," was the first thing Cloud muttered.

Genesis laughed, delighted and flushed and beaming, and Cloud scowled but drew him into a kiss, long and sweet.

They eventually broke away, becoming uncomfortably aware of cooling semen, chafed legs from their jeans, as well as the pie that Genesis had just remembered due to some beeping coming from the kitchen.

Genesis slapped his ass as he pulled the blond to his feet. "Oven's preheated. Hit the showers, Strife. I'll deal with dessert."

" _You_  know a sports reference?"

"Please. I've seen football movies."

Smiling Cloud acquiesced and wandered around until he found Genesis' shower, which was attached to his bedroom (and Cloud did not linger for long in there, because he'd be tempted to either do something very inappropriate on that bed or snoop, and both were Bad Things).

The water felt great on his skin despite stinging a little on his chafed ankles. There was also something to be said for using someone else's beauty products—and Cloud had never heard of these—that made you feel closer to them, somehow, and maybe a little turned on.

Snatching out of a dresser a pair of Genesis' sweatpants—to think he owned such a thing!—and a soft, plain white t-shirt Cloud got dressed as he gave into temptation and poked around a little bit, nothing serious though. He then padded back out of Genesis' bedroom, barefoot, clothes under one arm.

Warm, sated and now clean, Cloud sat at a stool in the kitchen, chuckling at the way Genesis carefully moved around as he checked on a pie in the oven, grimacing if he walked the wrong way.

"Shower's free," Cloud supplied.

Grabbing the dirty clothes from him Genesis jerked his head at the oven. "Take it out when the timer's up if I'm not out."

"Sure."

Genesis disappeared and Cloud waited patiently, head swimming. Sixteen minutes.

It felt a little unreal. He had technically just gotten off with Genesis on his couch and now he was waiting for a pie to finish cooking; who would have thought?

It turned out that Genesis returned with about fifty seconds left on the timer, clad in something very similar to what Cloud was wearing. He grabbed two silly oven mitts and pulled the pie out.

"It's purple," Cloud said bluntly.

"Dumbapples." Genesis grinned. "Dumbass."

Cloud stuck out his tongue and happily accepted a slice, wiggling excitedly when Genesis dropped a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top.

"You're a black hole," Genesis groused, but gave him a second scoop with a grudging smile.

They moved to the couch again, throw pillows returned, and Genesis put on the TV. They indulged in the afterglow they'd missed before, Genesis' knees thrown over Cloud's lap and one of Cloud's arms around the man's waist as he balanced his plate on Genesis' shins and ate one-handed.

The show was stupid, a lame teen drama. They poked fun at the acting (Genesis saying that he could do far better) as they ate and shared increasingly sticky kisses, Genesis's tongue darting out to lick purple goo off of Cloud's lips.

It wasn't nearly as disgusting as it sounded.

"I was thinking," Genesis said a short while later, when the ice cream had been long since melted and Cloud was polishing off the pie Genesis hadn't finished.

"Hm?"

"If you wanted," Genesis began, and it sounded a bit rehearsed, or like he'd been thinking about it in his head for a while, "I could help you out. You're still paying the hospital, aren't you? And Zack's had no luck." The man shrugged, unaware Cloud had frozen beside him.

"I don't like to see you struggle, and Gaia knows I have more money than you need, or I need really." He smiled at Cloud, soft and earnest. "Just a few thousand Gil, more if you'll let me. It can even be a loan if you want it and you can pay me back. Let me help, Cloud."

The plate slid from Cloud's hands, luckily landing face-up on the carpet.

" _No_ ," he said shakily, unconsciously scooting back. His face erupted into a hot blush of shame.

Genesis frowned.

"No, I don't—I don't need your charity, Genesis."

Cloud stood up, waves of panic, fear and embarrassment hitting him in alternating waves. He hadn't expected this, he had thought it hadn't _mattered_ that he wasn't the richest guy around—

"Charity?" Genesis parroted, raising an eyebrow. With his hair damp and towel-tousled he looked like a million Gil, just like he had an hour ago as his fingers had twined so gently with his as they pressed his wrists down into the leather of the couch.

Cloud suddenly felt very sick. He crossed his arms across his chest, feeling very small in Genesis' large, expensive Midgar apartment.

"I don't need your pity," he said bitterly, shame still turning his neck, ears, chest and face a splotchy, unattractive red. "I thought—shit, Genesis! What  _was_ this, a  _let's help this poor mechanic and feel good about myself_ kind of thing?"

He was frazzled, pissed and humiliated.

Cloud Strife could get by on his own, thank you very much, and he didn't need some benevolent Gillionaire to look after him  _Great Expectations_  style.

He wasn't making sense, though, and he was scared. Fear could make you say a lot of things in the moment you didn't mean. He looked at Genesis, mouth open to say something else.

The man's eyes were hard, and that made Cloud pause. He hadn't looked like that since the very first time they met when he thought Cloud was shit on his shoe.

He'd been nothing but kind, open and giving since then.

"Is that really what you think is going on here?"

Cloud flinched. "N-No—"

"That I'd treat you like I'm some kind of  _Sugar Daddy?_ That I'm taking  _pity_ on you?"

"Gen, I—"

"Get out."

One long, slim finger extended towards the door. Cloud gaped. "Genesis, please, I didn't mean it—"

"Five seconds—I swear to the Goddess, Cloud."

Cloud somehow managed to scoop up his keys, wallet and shoes and was suddenly out in the hallway, the loud slam of Genesis' door bringing him back to his senses. More or less.

"Genesis?" Cloud whispered shakily into the wood of the door.

No response.

He was commando in borrowed clothes, barefoot, in an expensive as hell apartment building. He looked around, lost, before heading to the elevator. He put on his shoes, barely managing to balance on one leg and staggered out onto the sidewalk a long minute later.

The metro ride was a blur, but he was pretty sure he was that one zoned-out frightening man in the back that everyone edged away from. He somehow made it home and it took three attempts to open his apartment door, fingers shaking so bad he dropped his keys twice.

He turned on the lights and let out a yell.

Zack was sitting on their couch in the darkness, a bottle of something half-empty in his hands.

"What happened?" Cloud asked, misery temporarily forgotten, though he had a feeling he already knew.

" _Cloudy_ ," Zack called, eyes still squinted shut at the light. "It… didn't go well, man." He leaned his head back against the couch and stared at the ceiling.

"Nah…not good. I fucked up, Spike. Got nervous and shit. Just kinda stood there." He looked at Cloud, eyes mournful. "Didn't even get called back for round two."

He seemed to finally notice Cloud's strange attire and red eyes. "Why are you back early? I thought you were with Genesis?"

"I fucked up too," Cloud said hollowly. The knowledge that this was totally and utterly  _his fault_ sat hot in his stomach like molten lead.

He strode over to the couch and plopped down next to his friend, taking the bottle from Zack's unresisting fingers and taking a swig from the neck. Ugh, whiskey.

"Gen was trying to be nice and do me a favor and I got scared and insulted him. He kicked me out."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Sorry about your audition."

"It's cool," Zack said, but he sounded anything but  _cool_. Cloud knew how much he had been looking forward to this, how hard he had practiced.

They shuffled closer into a tight hug, and neither male was quite sure who was comforting who, but it helped.

A little, anyway.


	10. Chapter 9

For better or for worse Cloud was the first one to wake up the next morning. He'd neglected to turn on the air conditioner the night before leaving his room to the mercy of the hot sun streaming in his windows; he lay tangled in his blankets hot, sweaty, and miserable.

Irritably he kicked the blankets down to his feet and rolled onto his stomach, flipping the pillow over to the cool side (which he was disgruntled to find was only semi-cool). All that movement further twisted his too-small pants around his legs. Thoroughly uncomfortable and growing uneasy as he remembered the previous night's events Cloud lasted only a few minutes longer in bed before getting up while muttering, "Gaia damn it."

After peeling Genesis' borrowed sweatpants off and donning a better-fitting pair of his own Cloud hesitantly moved out of his room and into the shared area of his apartment, not sure what he'd find.

His roommate wasn't present but had left his mark behind. With a tired sigh the blond eyed their mess of a living room before sticking his head into Zack's room. Zack was curled under his blankets and looked alive, so that was something. Apparently after throwing up on the floor in the next room over he'd been well enough to get himself to bed.

The manual labor involved with cleaning up Zack's mess thankfully occupied enough of his brainspace that he couldn't really focus too much on the disastrous tail-end of his date with Genesis. He cleaned up the puke and the spilt ounce or two of whiskey Zack evidently hadn't been able to finish, opening the windows and spraying something lavender scented to chase out the smell and feel of crushed dreams and disappointment.

…Okay, so in all honesty it wasn't  _that_  bad. Towards the end of the night Cloud had comforted Zack as his friend seemed to finally get out all the frustrations he'd had this entire time. Zack was a unique guy, optimistic to the point of seeming inhuman. All the financial frustrations Cloud had dealt with since moving to Midgar (and more since his accident for sure) visibly and tangibly dragged Cloud Strife down sometimes—he just wasn't wired to bounce back with a grin every time life suckerpunched him.

Occasionally he moped and got angsty and unreasonable, just like anybody else. Zack, however, always seemed chipper and never got discouraged. Yesterday's audition seemed like it was going to be  _it_ though—his big break—and, truthfully, while it sucked that it hadn't gone well maybe it was good that Zack got to finally express his negative emotions in a healthy way.

_Or maybe not so healthy,_ Cloud thought as he dropped a plastic bag full of soiled paper towels down the trash chute in the hallway.

It was something at least. Everybody had to crack sometime.

The smell of burnt bacon and runny eggs successfully managed to draw Zack out of his room a half hour later. He looked absolutely terrible but Cloud chose not to comment, instead mumbling a small apology about the state of his homemade breakfast and handing him an aspirin to have with his water.

Both men were quiet for a time; Zack tried to force himself to eat, looking pathetic as he pouted at his plate while wishing the food would suddenly appear in his stomach. Cloud watched him while trying not to get caught watching him.

"Thanks for cleaning," Zack muttered eventually.

"No problem," Cloud answered, pulling out his phone and making a show of burying himself in it. No messages from Genesis. "How are you feeling?"

"Shitty." Zack scowled at the food but then shook his head and let out a chuckle. "Man, what a mess."

"Pretty much."

They finished their food with some chatter about light stuff that carried no real weight. Zack called in sick for work that he had later in the afternoon, then went to shower and Cloud did the dishes from breakfast. The usual sounds present in the apartment sounded weird in his ears: running water, the ticking of the ugly cat clock by the microwave, rush of mid-morning traffic outside drifting in the open windows—he felt empty, removed, like he was listening to it all through a speaker somewhere in a room filled otherwise in complete silence.

Zack, while no longer actively trying to get alcohol poisoning and crying into Cloud's shirt, still didn't seem at 100 percent a short time later. He was quiet and had stuffed all the highlighted, dog-eared and well-loved pages of his audition script deep into the trashcan when Cloud wasn't looking.

There was something very wrong with his roommate's sunny smile missing but it was highly likely he'd bounce back soon. "All the best actors say that they got rejected over and over again at first," he offered.

"Thanks, buddy," Zack said sourly—he didn't seem very thankful, however, so Cloud let him be after that.

And on Cloud's part he wasn't nearly as devastated as he'd been the night previous. Sure, he was still in the doghouse so to speak and he hadn't been in contact with Genesis since the man had kicked him out, but sometimes seeing your roommate a hot mess with his own problems put your own into perspective.

Seeing your roommate, usually a ball of sunshine, dark and gloomy while shut up in his room and playing loud music like an angsty teenager put them into perspective further. Cloud thought about it a bit, calmed down, and made a decision.

He'd been the one to fuck this whole too-good thing up, so he had to be the one to fix it.

Around one-thirty he finally cracked and could take it no longer; Zack's uselessness (though warranted) made him antsy. He sent Genesis a text:  _Hey. We need to talk about last night._

A few seconds after he sent another:  _This is my fault. I'm sorry._

"You've got to give him time to respond," Zack said later, irritated when he realized that Cloud, who was attempting to watch television while he waited, was checking his phone for an answer every other minute.

With a sigh Cloud reluctantly let it go; it wedged itself in the couch cushions soon like small devices tended to do. Zack shooed him away and with a roll of his eyes Cloud pulled on his sneakers and left. There were some errands to do, and the distraction would do him some good.

Secretly he was pretty sure that Genesis wouldn't have responded by the time he got back about two hours later, but when he eventually finished lugging in bags groceries and some last parts for his bike he'd had to buy at a place downtown he was still disappointed to find his phone void of new messages and his last one sitting there staring at him.  _This is my fault. I'm sorry._

Zack retold the story of his own misfortune, as he'd gotten too drunk the night before to really explain well. He seemed bitter about it, and it didn't fit him at all. Cloud remained quiet though and let Zack get it out. The walk out of that place after messing up as badly as he had would've been awful. But, like Cloud said, many actors got rejected at first, right? Zack knew it too, even if he didn't want to hear it at the moment.

They played some video games together for a while and walked a few blocks away to get dinner outside, a treat to themselves they thought they both deserved. Cloud went to bed that night frustrated and forbidden from sending more messages until the next day and Zack went to sleep disappointed and ignoring all the ones from his friends that asked,  _How did it go? Bet you did great!_

* * *

"You're coming to work with me," Cloud told a cocoon of blankets early the next morning.

"No way," Zack groaned from somewhere deep inside.

The only response was, "You've got five minutes to get up."

When five minutes came and went Cloud returned to his roommate's room, grabbed his bare feet underneath his blankets and unceremoniously pulled him onto the floor.

"Fuck!" Zack tried to kick out but Cloud hauled him up to his feet and cupped his cheeks, getting in close and giving him a stern look.

"I won't let you mope for more than a day. C'mon—you don't have work today. You'd just lie here and eat all our food." He gently smacked one of Zack's cheeks and started rooting through his dresser.

Zack hastily elbowed him away. "I got it, I got it," he muttered. "I'll be right out."

When both men were ready they left and took Cloud's car. Zack was tired and grumpy but perked up a bit as they neared the shop. "I've never been to your garage," he said, sounding surprised. "Will there be something for me to do?"

Cloud shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. Just don't piss off my boss."

When they arrived Cloud gave a quick tour, did introductions, said no one was to crush Zack with the lift or make him sniff too many paint fumes, then stuck him on a chair behind the front desk where he was stationed for the day.

"Anything from Genesis?" Zack asked quietly, playing a pre-programmed game on the computer where Cloud did some of the recordkeeping.

"No."

"Maybe you should call him."

He gave him a meaningful look when Cloud hesitated. Nodding, the blond ducked out and moved into the break room, where he stood in the quietest corner and dialed his boyfriend.

It rang a few times—Cloud holding his breath throughout—and to either his dismay or relief it went to voicemail. He quickly hung up, not having planned what to say, and returned to his station.

"No?" Zack asked with a sympathetic frown.

"No."

As customers began to show up with their hundreds-of-thousands-of-Gil cars in tow Zack grew bored and began to walk around the outside of the main entrance room, inspecting the framed pictures on the walls.  _Highwind Auto,_ despite being run by an old bastard, was a tight-knit place.

There were a few group pictures with everyone at the yearly Christmas parties and ones of various people deep in concentration as they worked. There was one of Cloud soon after being hired—his hair was longer and in a ponytail back then. One from half a year ago showed the blond in his wheelchair, brightly smiling with a wrench in his hand and the gutted frame of a car in front of him. Cid had his arm around Cloud's shoulder, stooping a little, and was for once all smiles.

So much of Cloud's life centered around this place. It was fitting that he had met Genesis here—and gone through this argument, too. And, hey, he'd rather it be here than anywhere else anyway.

Zack seemed sufficiently charmed and managed to occupy himself until the early afternoon chatting with the other employees. Quickly he became friends with them, sociable asshole. He was lazily reading one of the magazines they had lying around while Cloud filed paperwork from a recent customer when the door opened, bells chiming, and Aerith Gainsborough came in, sweaty and distressed.

"You okay, Aerith?" Cloud asked, frowning at her. He felt Zack shift and peer over his shoulder at her.

Aerith explained that her car had broken down three blocks away. She'd gotten it to the side of the road and hurried over since  _Highwind Auto_ was so close.

"Hey, no problem," the blond soothed. "We've got it. Here—meet my friend Zack. I'll be right back." He waved a hand between the two of them, gave Zack a  _be kind to her_ look and left to grab Cid.

Grace and Benny were sent out to tow her car a few minutes later and Cloud returned to the desk to find Zack and Aerith drinking cups of crappy coffee from the break room, huddled together on chairs in the corner of the room.

From a short distance away Cloud could tell Zack was flustered. He kept rubbing the back of his neck and rolling his cup between his hands. From the desk Cloud smiled to himself.

Aerith's car was soon brought in. She and Zack kept talking as Grace checked it over and identified the problems. Letting them be, Cloud continued to do his own thing for half an hour or so, when the door opened for another customer.

"Uh oh," Cloud grunted, "What's wrong now?"

Lazard Deusericus had that CV boot replacement a few months ago and while Cloud was happy to see him he hoped it wasn't their fault he was back. It was never good to give a customer a crappy repair to land them back in the shop.

"Nothing," Lazard said with a smile as he greeted the other blond, "Yearly inspection."

Relieved, Cloud said, "Oh. That's good." As he rolled his chair back to get a certain binder with the form he wanted he asked, "So how's your movie deal going?  _Materia for Two,_ right?"

"Poorly, actually," Lazard said, leaning his elbow on the counter but then thinking better of it, inspecting his elbow for dirt. Cloud resisted the urge to snort. "Along with all sorts of legal issues they're still attempting to cast the main leads. I haven't been fond of any of the possible choices so far."

Plopping two sheets of paper in front of the author Cloud made a sympathetic noise and let him be. He realized, a minute or two later, that Lazard had stopped writing.

"You alright?"

"Is that Aerith Gainsborough?"

"Yeah. She's a regular."

Lazard pushed his glasses higher up on his nose and stared at Aerith for a moment, eyes narrowed. He raked a hand through his long blond hair and murmured softly, "And who's the boy?"

"Zack Fair," Cloud answered distractedly as he filed some things for the next day's appointments. "He's my roommate, actually. I told you a bit about him once."

"The actor?"

"Yeah." Cloud crouched to pull a notebook off a shelf and when he resurfaced Lazard was gone, half-finished paperwork sitting there. He was over by Zack and Aerith, standing calmly and confidently in his weird blue pinstriped suit like only bestselling authors can.

Cloud let out a stressed puff of breath but gave them their space, busying himself with logging the tow of Aerith's car and the two other customers that came in before her.

At four Cloud's shift ended. Aerith and Zack were  _still_ talking, sitting all close and gesturing at each other, so he waved goodbye to both after checking to make sure Zack had money to get the subway home on his own. Lazard had finally left them alone to deal with the reason for his visit and was in the back discussing his inspection with Cid, who always personally dealt with the most famous customers.

There were an awful lot of 'matchmaking' that happened at their garage as far as the popular culture biz was concerned, as he and Cid had discussed many a time before…Cloud crossed his fingers as he left, hoping for everyone's sake the shop worked its magic yet again.

* * *

In the hours after leaving work Cloud sent Genesis another text and called once more—null on both. It was incredibly frustrating; Genesis was usually the  _in your face_ one out of the two of them but he also had a mighty temper and could out-sass Cloud even on his tamer days.

Still, there was no reason they couldn't be adults about it. Cloud was growing impatient.

Zack came in late that night looking like a zombie. He kept blinking too long and too hard; he looked surprised every time they opened like he couldn't believe he was standing in their apartment.

"What's up?" Cloud asked cautiously from the kitchen, eating microwave ravioli with their last clean spoon. Zack wandered in and leant against the counter.

"Lazard Deusericus bought us dinner," he said finally, swallowing thickly. "Me n' Aerith, I mean. Aerith Gainsborough."

Nodding, keeping his smile hidden, Cloud prompted, "What did he want?"

"He said he's got a book that's being made into a movie.  _Materia for Two_ , have you read it? Anyway, he said that Aerith and I are—" He shook his head and whispered the next words, "'just perfect' for the two leads. He said we—he said we—"

Cloud waited patiently as Zack collected himself.

"He said we have great chemistry." He pulled out his phone. Aerith's number was in there with a smiley face after her name. It was easy to imagine her devious self giggling as she typed it in.

Zack elaborated, saying that because he was unknown and had no past acting experience they needed an interview and small audition, but Aerith would be there. "It's tomorrow at lunchtime," he said, sounding overwhelmed. "Lazard said we're the ones."

The roommates stared at each other for a long moment, and then Cloud jumped off his stool and they collided, throwing their arms around each other.

"Zack! This is awesome!"

"Don't get too excited yet. It's not in the bag."

The taller man started tearing up and Cloud jokingly pushed him out the front door, saying that there wasn't enough room for a little girl in the house. Eventually Zack recovered and came back inside, and they celebrated. It was definitely something, seeing Zack's gloomy mood of the past few days disappear.

"What about Genesis?" Zack asked later.

"What about him?"

Zack didn't him dodge. "Have you contacted him at all?"

"No…he's still not responding."

"You've got to find a way to make him listen, man. I'm not the only one allowed to be happy here."

Cloud brushed it off at the time but later, in bed and staring at the ceiling, he knew Zack was right—he couldn't let Genesis hide from him if he wanted this to work out.

* * *

The next morning was hectic. Zack had to get ready for his important interview, which meant Cloud had to run around cleaning up after Zack cycloned through the place and made a mess of everything in an attempt to make himself look perfect.

" _Seriously_ ," the blond grumbled, "how do you have so many clothes?"

"Is this tie okay?" Zack turned around, standing on his bed for some reason, and held out his arms.

"I don't know…"

With a growl Zack whined, "You're totally useless."

They managed to get Zack ready for his big day, though, and they both wished each other luck as the dark-haired man left. Cloud waited a beat, catching his breath, then did his own preparations.

He donned his work uniform (which was just a goofy hat with his logo and his nametag, really). He filled an empty cardboard box with some old noodle packages lying around, slapped on some stamps and scribbled on a name, and headed into town.

Nerves almost did him in a few times on the train, which was hot in the late summer weather and made his clothes stick to his body. He emerged into the sunlight, squinting, at the base of Shin-Ra tower.

Luckily he'd been on enough deliveries here that they let him up with little to no trouble. A quick, "This is for Vincent Valentine," and a flash of his I.D. was enough to get him in.

He rode the elevator up to the 74th floor and pushed past a group of undoubtedly famous people to reach Vincent's office. He opened the door after a quick knock and held out his box.

"Hey," he said breathlessly to the man, who was in the middle of eating an apple on his computer, "Mind if I keep this here for a sec?"

Vincent nodded, clearly confused but choosing not to comment. Cloud dropped the box, his hat and nametag onto an armchair in the corner and left as quickly as he came.

There was a chance Genesis wasn't in but Cloud knew him well enough—he tended to work more than usual when stressed. Without letting himself hesitate, Cloud took the stairs to the 70th floor and knocked firmly on the door.

Sure enough it opened after a minute. Genesis looked incredibly surprised for a moment, and then his expression soured.

"Oh look," he said, "It's the Mideelian orphan I'm sponsoring," and  _ouch_  that hurt, but Cloud deserved it and let it roll off.

"Genesis," Cloud said. He stuck his foot in the doorway in case Genesis tried to slam it on him. "I need to talk to you."

Genesis did indeed try to slam the door; it hurt like a bitch but Cloud didn't move it, merely winced. "Well, what?" the redhead said bluntly after a second.

"I came to apologize."

The older man remained quiet. He looked pissed, but also a little sad—his hair was without product and just down flat against his head. He looked as bad as Cloud felt, with dark bags under his eyes, clogged pores and chapped lips.

"…I didn't mean it, any of it," Cloud said softly. He was still mostly out in the hallway and he'd prefer to not be in public for this, but fuck it, if that's how it had to happen that's damn well how it would happen.

"Well, no," Cloud hedged, floundering, and Genesis' eyes narrowed.

"I did mean what I said about not being able to accept your money, but none of the other stuff. It's—I work hard, you know, and I've been surrounded by people like you for years—it's just how I am, Gen. It was kind of you to offer, and I really appreciate it, I do, but I can't accept it. Thank you though."

Genesis had eased up on the door and Cloud surged into his space, shutting the door and leaning back against it from the inside.

"But that doesn't excuse what I said. I got scared." Cloud thought back to some of the stuff Zack had told him earlier that morning. "You, uh, you scared me and I panicked so I said things I didn't mean to try to push you away." He shrugged and gave Genesis the most apologetic look he could.

"I know you don't treat me like a charity case. You've been nothing but nice and understanding and, fuck,  _wonderful_ this whole time, and you were just being nice again with the loan thing. I shouldn't have said any of that. Please, it's my fault, not yours. You were just trying to help. I'm sorry, Genesis."

The redhead seemed unmoved. "…Really," Cloud said feebly.

Genesis stood in silence for so long Cloud was nearly out of his mind with anticipation and awkwardness. He was just about to step back and run for it when he spoke.

"I figured as much," he said, crossing his arms and leaning back against his desk, long legs folded in front of him. "that you were just reacting out of fright."

Cloud smiled, but it faded when Genesis said, "That doesn't excuse it though, you're correct.

"You know I could give less of a shit about your job or whatever, Cloud. You  _know_ that. I am sorry for asking, though—that was inappropriate of me. I shouldn't have."

He glanced up and their eyes met for a moment before Genesis' pretty blues slid away down to the carpet. "Still. To imply I'd been treating you like that, like I'm some kind of… old rich pervert, how  _dare_ you?"

Cloud shrunk back against the door. The man before him was a fiery one; his arguments were loud and angry and passionate most of the time—he'd witnessed a few, though never been in one himself. Now Genesis talked quietly and seemed so damn  _disappointed;_ it had to be worse than feeling his usual wrath.

Genesis turned his back on Cloud and walked around his desk, dropping into his chair. The tiny framed picture of Cloud on the desk was turned face-down, the blond noticed.

"I need more time to think," Genesis said.

"…Okay," Cloud said uneasily. Genesis returned to the script on his desk, saying nothing else.

Cloud turned and fled.

* * *

Like a true friend Tifa had come over as soon as Cloud had called her and informed her of the news. She even brought the stuff to make Cloud's favorite drinks. They sat squished together on the couch with Wutaian food and lime  _Mako_ sours, watching mind-numbing television about people sexually attracted to inanimate objects. Cloud had been upset earlier but Tifa's presence and voice of reason really was invaluable to him.

It was as good an evening that could be obtained, really.

Zack came home during a special about a woman who had attempted to marry her cactuar fountain beaming and shaking, grin wide enough to split the kitchen.

Tifa didn't know—Cloud had been too wrapped up in his own problems to remember to tell her Zack's recent developments.

"No way!" Cloud exclaimed, standing and dropping his container of noodles as he wobbled a bit.

"Yes way! I got the part!"

Understandably Tifa looked confused as she watched the two men embrace, jump up and down and carry on. "What part?" she asked.

Zack explained and soon Tifa was screaming too, saying repeatedly that she had "read that book!" The world was kind of fuzzy and Cloud latched onto his roommate in a strong hug, letting go only when Zack began to squirm and complain that he was hurting him.

"I always knew you'd make it," he said sincerely, grabbing Zack's shirt roughly and making the man look him in the eye.

"I want whatever you've been having," was Zack's only response, and they all moved into the kitchen so Tifa could fix Zack a drink.

Aerith was great, as far as Zack was concerned. She soothed him when he was nervous about the audition earlier that day. It hadn't even mattered that he had been half-panicked and was practically improvising his audition; he'd delivered a kickass performance in front of the movie's casting director, Lazard, and the producer and directors themselves. The co-lead of the film was his.

They put on music and used up the rest of Tifa's booze. Zack laughed louder and smiled more than he had in a long time, and if an extra few shots secretly went towards the sting in Cloud's belly from a second rejection from Genesis, well, his roommate didn't have to know.

At eight Tifa had to leave to get ready for her shift at the bar. She was pulling on her sneakers when someone knocked at the door. She opened it and Cloud curiously strolled by with a bowl of popcorn for the movie he and Zack were preparing to watch.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, because no one else had a reason to visit, it was Genesis. He was showered and his familiar flirty smile flashed at Cloud from the hallway.

"I've thought enough," he said simply. He then turned the charm on Tifa: "And you are?"

"Tifa Lockhart," she said, looking back and forth between their visitor and her best friend.

"I've heard a lot about you," he said pleasantly. "May I come in?"

"Uh, yeah," Cloud said. He took a step back and bumped into Zack on his way to introduce himself to Genesis, spilling a third of the popcorn all over the floor.

"He's a little drunk," Tifa warned as he grabbed her purse and took a step outside. "Sorry, but I've got to go to work—nice to meet you Genesis." She sent Cloud a sharp look over the redhead's shoulder.

Genesis tsked and his eyes raked over Cloud critically. "Can you consent? Can you get an erection?"

"I'm not that drunk," Cloud said, shakily putting the bowl down and almost spilling a little more, "So yes, I can. And, uh," he glanced at Tifa and Zack's horrified faces at the mention of his dick, "yeah—I can do that too."

"Well then." Genesis sidestepped Zack, who was suddenly in a hurry to jam on his shoes and leave with Tifa. It took Cloud a second to realize why.

"Are we going to have make up sex?" he asked far too loudly.

He heard Zack laugh as he tumbled out into the hallway, slamming the door shut behind him.

"Only if you want, of course," Genesis said. He quickly located Cloud's bedroom and unceremoniously pulled off his shirt.

As he watched Genesis strip and fall back, naked, onto his bed, Cloud asked the important question, "How did you find my apartment?" He eagerly moved forward and pressed his full weight onto the other man, smiling while pressing his wrists down onto the mattress. He pressed an apologetic kiss to Genesis' jaw and nuzzled him a bit with his nose.

"That doorman downstairs—the redhead—is in my fanclub. Thank him later."

"Will do. And hey, uh, Gen?"

"Mm…what?"

"Thanks. For forgiving me and all. I won't make that mistake again."

Genesis gave him a fond look, hair a mess on Cloud's pillow and looking nothing less than lovely. "I don't care who you are," he said, grabbing the back of Cloud's neck and pulling him down into a tender kiss, "You're not getting special treatment because you're cute."

The words sounded like something Cloud had said a long time ago, and he figured Genesis was trying to make some kind of joke, but Cloud's tipsy brain didn't quite grasp it. "You're still such an asshole," he answered vaguely, smiling. He used his hand to mess up the redhead's hair. Like this he looked like less of the arrogant rich man he'd met a few months back and more like a random guy. He could get used to that.

The cheeky look Genesis shot him then reassured him more than anything else that it was okay. Not just for him, or them, or Zack—all of it was okay. Everything, somehow, in Cloud's usually bleak existence in this sad city was okay for once, and he could  _definitely_  get used to that.


	11. Epilogue

"They're going to scratch him."

"No they won't. He's in good hands."

"…No, I'm pretty sure they don't know how to drive him right. Why don't I just—"

With an exasperated " _Cloud_ ," and a firm hand on his shoulder Angeal stopped Cloud's attempt at escaping the event to go rescue his newly-restored motorcycle from the valet service. The blond would have struggled but there were currently far too many cameras for his taste trained on the two of them.

"If anything happens to Fenrir…" the blond murmured darkly to his companion.

Angeal's arm fell around his shoulder. "Relax," he said simply, and moved them both further towards a loud throng of excited people. There was someone with a microphone in front of a camera that Cloud vaguely recognized from one of those entertainment shows but Angeal walked right past, Cloud safely tucked against his side.

They posed for a few pictures together, Cloud trying to keep his eyes open despite the bright flares of camera lights. Angeal stopped to kiss the forehead of a girl behind the short metal fence who was in great, sobbing tears upon seeing him on the red carpet in person but otherwise kept moving, weaving through celebrities and friends.

It was overwhelming how busy a movie premiere could be.

Lazard was beaming under a huge  _Materia for Two_ poster—the promotional one, with Zack and Aerith smiling tenderly at each other in that field that made Zack come home with all kinds of bug bites on his shins—and the author looked happier than Cloud had ever seen him.

Angeal and Cloud were both present as friends and supporters of the actors, not as part of the film themselves so the focus wasn't on them as much as some others but people were always happy to see Angeal Hewley. It was a great thing, how quickly Cloud had gotten close to Angeal after meeting Sephiroth again—Genesis and Sephiroth were best friends after all; they were rarely far from each other.

Yeah, Sephiroth's husband was intimidatingly famous but he was kind, had a ton of puppies that Sephiroth always claimed to hate and had even gotten him and Zack a bunch of plants to put in their apartment to give it some life. To Zack Angeal had become something of a mentor in the acting world but they were close on another level too, and these days Genesis jokingly claimed that he was jealous of all the time Cloud was spending with Sephiroth instead of him.

Some close friends could make all the difference in a city like Midgar.

"Where are Gen and Seph?" Cloud started to ask, but then there was a microphone in Angeal's face and he was eloquently praising Zack's acting ability and how he was a great young man, et cetera. The camera and microphone were both turned on Cloud next and he blinked owlishly for a moment before saying, "Um, sorry, what was the question?"

Angeal laughed loudly, and luckily the woman doing the interviews—Gaia, they were probably live—did too. Cloud was known to the world firstly as "Genesis Rhapsodos's boyfriend" and secondly as "Zack Fair's best friend" and although that was sometimes frustrating it was okay for him—he was just Cloud the Mechanic at his core anyway.

He was pathetically ignorant of his closest friends' world sometimes but he knew enough to get him past painfully awkward impromptu interviews like this one, at least. Cloud nervously praised Zack, said a little something about Genesis when prompted and then hauled Angeal away, neck straining as he attempted to spot their friends.

"I don't see them," he said, "Oh, wait—" Sephiroth's silver head towering over most people was unmistakable. Angeal's face lit up and he waved; about a minute later Zack, Genesis and Sephiroth emerged from the crowd.

"Spike!" Zack roared, full of energy and excitement to the point where it look like he might burst. He grabbed Cloud in a hug and spun him in a circle just because he knew it would embarrass and enrage the blond—lights flashed and Cloud plastered on an obviously fake smile.

"You're dead," he whispered in his roommate's ear as he put him down.

The threat though slid right off though and Zack started goofily smiling for everyone, talking a mile a minute to the viewers at home. Genesis' warm and steady presence appeared at Cloud's side and the blond turned his head to smile at him, instantly less nervous about the public appearance than he had been moments earlier.

"Having fun?" the man asked, his hand finding Cloud's. Genesis already knew the answer, judging by his sly smile.

"Not really."

"Smile!"

While Zack was occupied the couple posed for a bit with Angeal and Sephiroth, but soon wrapped it up and headed inside where the film would be shown. There was a small circular table with their four nametags on it—Zack's being the only name not present.

The men sat down, Genesis immediately scooching his chair closer so that he could hook one his ankles around Cloud's. The man cocked his eyebrows at Cloud and stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth playfully.

Angeal and Sephiroth's soft conversation beside them blended with the voices of those who continued to filter into the venue. There were so many people, and prolific ones too—Aerith was inside now, glowing. Zack eventually appeared beside her, soaking up the attention. He looked as happy as he deserved to be.

Lazard and the head of production made a short speech, and soon after the lights dimmed. Cheers went through the small audience—Cloud clapped the hardest.

The first few seconds of the movie began to play and the blond settled into his seat, stiff in the suit Genesis had bought him. He hardly noticed now. His hand went to Genesis' lap where his boyfriend's hands were neatly folded; the actor wrapped both around the one of Cloud's and the blond absently stroked the man's knuckles with his thumb.

It was strange.

Cloud had lived in this sad city for a long time. Everything he'd experienced here, everything he knew told him that Zack shouldn't have made it. Like Azul he should have struggled until it became too much and he lost himself. Genesis Rhapsodos should have been a dick like everyone else in this city, someone who didn't give Cloud Strife the time of day. Someone cruel and snotty, not someone whose humor was sharp but whose hands were gentle and knew him—as a person, not as 'poor' or 'mechanic' or 'delivery boy'—better than anyone.

That was the thing, though: correlation wasn't always causation and despite this being a cruel and unfortunate world Zack was still somehow able to succeed and Genesis was somehow the opposite of all the things Cloud hated after a little digging.

But, he figured—that's life. They were lucky. Why, however, he wasn't going to let himself ponder; better to appreciate than question.

Content, Cloud took the opportunity to really appreciate all Zack had become.

* * *

Much later, after the excitement had died down and the crowd had mostly trickled away, Zack found them. Sephiroth had swiped some wine out of the reception and they were milling around nearby in a secluded corner (or as secluded as they could get it).

Sephiroth held out the bottle of deep red wine to Cloud, who reached out to take it while smiling as Zack fought his way out between the crowd a short distance away to join them. The bottle didn't move and the blond's gaze snapped up to the Sephiroth's. They held eye contact as Cloud gave another fruitless tug. The older man finally smirked and let go; Cloud let out a grunt and took a long swig from the neck.

Chuckling, Genesis moved behind Cloud and wound an arm around his waist. Teasing about how Cloud still wasn't quite past his starstruck-over-Sephiroth phase was sure to come once they were alone behind closed doors for sure, but for now he was content to snicker at Cloud and shoot his best friend a mock-dirty look. The four friends greeted Zack warmly as he approached, cheeks flushed with happiness. He had just said goodbye to Aerith for the evening; the two of them had come far since meeting in  _Highwind Auto_ all those months ago.

Angeal clapped him hard on the back. "Good job today."

"Heh, thanks."

They stayed around a little longer to wrap up some things, saying goodbye to Angeal and Sephiroth who had something else undoubtedly important to squeeze in before the night was through. As they walked toward the valets to pick up Fenrir and Zack's car the dark-haired man put an arm around Cloud's shoulder and said lightly, "So, hey. I was looking at some condos near the waterfront. That'd be nice, yeah?"

Cloud almost stumbled, his limbs going cold. "Oh," he said, trying to hide his disappointment. This was Zack's life now… it made sense that he was going to leave their cramped apartment and move on to something better.

He had made it, after all.

It was funny—he didn't anticipate getting nearly as attached to his roommate as he had back when he was doing all those interviews.

"You're finally moving?" he asked.

Zack frowned and stopped walking, his arm sliding off to fall by his side. "Dude," he said, eyes bright and earnest, "No way. I told you ages ago.  _We're_ moving. We're in this together, yeah?"

"…Yeah. Yeah, we are."

Genesis' arms were warm around him as Cloud straddled his bike. The engine's purr sounded even better than he remembered. "See you at home!" Zack called through his rolled-down window, still insisting he was too good for a fancy chauffer like Genesis usually had.

"Hold on tight," Cloud advised, briefly covering Genesis's clasped hands above his belly button with one of his own and getting a tired, mumbled affirmation in response. "You heard the man—let's go home."


End file.
